Singing Her Heart Out
by JGH
Summary: 16 year old Naomi's love was always singing, and she's about to find out how much it was her parent's, too.They want a career for her more than anything, even when she decides there's something else, or someone else, that matters more.
1. February 2, 1967

This is my second story (Fourth if you include one sequel and a song fic, but I'm not.) Since I felt like writing about someone other than Riley for a change. I'm still updating my other story, though. Don't get the wrong idea. I also decided to put alot more work into trying to make my new OC less like myself. Although she does have the same birthday as me.

* * *

_I'm nothing special, in fact I'm a bit of a bore  
If I tell a joke, you've probably heard it before  
But I have a talent, a wonderful thing  
'cause everyone listens when I start to sing  
I'm so grateful and proud  
All I want is to sing it out loud _

So I say  
Thank you for the music, the songs I'm singing  
Thanks for all the joy they're bringing  
Who can live without it, I ask in all honesty  
What would life be?  
Without a song or a dance, what are we?  
So I say thank you for the music  
For giving it to me

Mother says I was a dancer before I could walk  
She says I began to sing long before I could talk  
And I've often wondered, how did it all start?  
Who found out that nothing can capture a heart  
Like a melody can?  
Well, whoever it was, I'm a fan

So I say  
Thank you for the music, the songs I'm singing  
Thanks for all the joy they're bringing  
Who can live without it, I ask in all honesty  
What would life be?  
Without a song or a dance, what are we?  
So I say thank you for the music  
For giving it to me

I've been so lucky, I am the girl with golden hair  
I wanna sing it out to everybody  
What a joy, what a life, what a chance!

_- Thank You For The Music - ABBA_

February 2, 1967

"Mom," I whined, "I don't feel good."

"Sweetie, you've been waiting for a month for this chance," Mom's face turned to sudden concern, "Are you really sick? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"No, Mom," I sighed, "I just suddenly don't want to go."

"Why, Mimi?" Mom used my grandfather's nickname for me. If I wasn't already sick, I was then, because I hate the name Mimi when anyone called me that other than grampy, and my grampy had died a few weeks earlier. I really missed him. I always will. Mom might have sensed this, because she continued quietly, "Naomi, why don't you want to go sing at that church?"

I sat down on the couch and leaned over so that my chin was resting on my knees. I've always been good at lying, but I could never hold back tears once they came...and they came easily.

"Naomi..."I wiped my eyes, hoping she hadn't seen me, "It's far from where Travis got hurt. You know that."

"Yeah, Mom," I jumped up, and walked to the other side of the room, hoping she couldn't hear the quiver in my voice, "It's far. Like, a mile. I checked." I added, at the gaping expression on her face.

"Naomi, you're being foolish. If you don't go sing, you'll be upset for a long time. You know that."

I did know that. Singing was everything to me. I wanted to sing opera when I was older. Move to London, and sing opera.I could play the guitar really well, but I wouldn't need that. Just singingsounded great to me. The only problem was, Tulsa was pretty far from London. Especially when you don't know if your family can afford to send you. My family isn't poor or anything, but Mom and Dad can't just send me wherever they want. I already knew I could go to college, that was one luxury we weren't too worried about, with my grades. But we didn't live in the very best part of the city. We lived right in central Tulsa, a little to the south. I was pretty glad we didn't live either to the west or the east, because then I would be classified (or stereotyped) as a greaser or a Soc...andI had no time for that. I really didn't. As an only child, I knew how protective my parents were and didn't want to worry them by getting in trouble. In my opinion, one of the best ways to stay out of trouble was to stay out of _everything. _So naturally, when I got a chance to sing at a church - and not just any church, a big one... A lot of people went there, since it was the only one in it's area- I really wanted to go.

Then, just today, I found a map on the counter. I thought it was kinda weird, since we weren't leaving Tulsa. Mom had lived here as long as I had, and I knew my way pretty good, so shouldn't she? Then I realized she had circled the church. Splat in the middle of eastern Tulsa. Count me out. I didn't hate greasers or hoods...I was dead terrified of them. My cousin Travis had been over there once, and he got beaten up really badly. They probably wouldn't hurt a girl, but still...I could never seem to reason with myself when I was scared.

But now, thoughts of my London dream were coming back, and I realized I needed all the experience I could get.

"Okay, Mom, I'll come." I smoothed out my dress, and ran into the bathroom to look in the mirror once more before I left. My hair was a little out of place. Good thing I'd come in to check. I combed it very carefully. My hair is light blonde, and down to my shoulders, but very curly. Every curl is about the size of a dollar coin. I had to comb it a certain way, otherwise it would just poof.

My eyes were glowing yellow. Normally my eyes are a yellow-amber, but when I get really high in an emotion- whether I'm really happy, really scared, really mad, or really sad...my eyes just go yellow. Golden Spectacles, my mom says.

I straightened my dress once again. It was a light yellow, and it matched my hair (and my eyes, right now.) Mom said I looked like a beautiful ray of sunlight. I thought I looked like a banana with black shoes.

Mom was right about one thing. That church was pretty big. Not quite as big as I imagined it, but I would settle for this. I was sitting with the choir, watching the pews fill up. The choir was smiling kindly at me, and no one had commented yet on 'that peculiar color of your eyes!' so I assumed that as I calmed down, my eyes had gone back to their usual amber.

I studyed my hands. They were pale, but that was normal for February. I did tan quite dark in the summer, though.I was still nervous about singing, but nerves always pushed me to do my best. I humed a scale as quietly as I could, and jumped as the service began. I took the time to scan over the congregation for my mom. She was four from the back on my left side.Suddenly, something caught my eye in the back pew. Ugh. It was group of hoods. So much for my eyes staying amber. I knew they were yellow now.

Service went along quickly, up until I had to sing. It was my nerves that made it seem fast.

"Now, we have a special young lady here to sing for us today." The reverend smiled kindly to me. He was a plump little man, with a bald head and rosy cheeks, "Ms. Naomi Sterling has been singing since she was young, and she hopes to sing opera in London some day." I smiled to myself at how good it sounded coming from someone else, "If you'd like to follow along in your hymn books, it's page 172."

I took my cue and rose to the microphone. The piano introduction was long, so I smiled around at people. My older cousin Adelle used to have a voice coach who told her to always smile and look friendly. She taugh Adelle alot about stage presence. Dad always said I had a natural stage presence. My gaze drifted back to Mom, who smiled encouragingly at me. I saw a sudden movement behind her.

Ugh. It was those hoods again. One of them was pretending to follow the music on the hymn book with his finger with a mock serious look on his face. I don't know if he sensed that I was looking at him or something, but he looked up right then. Right at me. I stopped smiling. I look daggers at him. He laughed. _That_ made me mad. He just lookeddownkept pretending to follow along. I looked back at my mom, and she smiled again...feverishly, this time. I think she was worried about the people laughing behind her.

I saw everything happen in slow motion. One of the greasers in the back threw a paper wad (probably from a bible) at the other guy, and he pretended to throw the hymn book. It slipped out of his hands and hit the wall, and then fell down. He obviously didn't mean to, I'd give him that. But it was such a loud noise that everyone looked. The organist stopped playing. Two of the guys...the two on the inner most side...looked like they might die. Truth be told, they all looked embarrased. Except this one guy. He wasn't even the one who dropped the hymn book, but he seemed pretty proud of it. He just grinned this wide, crazy..._demented, _even...looking grin...and waved his arm wildly.

A few people muttered. I laughed. It wasn't even a laugh, it was more of a giggle. But unfortuantely, I was at the microphone. So naturally, everyone heard me. The guy looked up at me, and gave me the thumbs up. My eyes began to turn yellow, but I didn't flinch. I still dont know if my eyes were yellow from anger that he thought I was on his side, or happiness that I had somehow - even if it was only for a second - gained the acceptence of someone who I thought was a completely different species.

At the end of the service, people were coming up to me and telling me how they enjoyed my singing. I smiled and thanked them, but really, once you've had so many compliments, 'I loved your singing' starts to get monotonous. I was about to turn and leave with my mother when I heard a voice behind me.

"Uh...Naomi?"

I turned around. My eyes turned yellow faster than I could ever remember then doing so. It was once of the hoods from the back of the church. I wanted to yell...to _scream _at him for interupting my performance, but he wasn't the one who dropped the hymn book, my mother was right behind me, and somehow I wouldn't right screaming like that in a church, so I didn't. Instead I forced a painful smile. he really looked sorry, and if he tried to start trouble, I was a few inches taller than him. _Maybe_ I could take him. Whowas I kidding? I knew I couldn't. I was pretty small myself, only 5'5" and fifteen years old. He was about a year or so younger than me.

"Yes?"

"Uh...I'm sorry we made you stop your performance."

"It's okay," I replied painfully, "I wasn't singing yet."

"I don't think we'll be back anytime soon anyway."

"That's too bad."

It was quiet for a second. I didn't want to say anything. I know it was mean, but I didn't _really_ think it was too bad. Did they do this at every service? How long had they been going here if they _had_?

"I'll have to go. I want to get out of here without too many people seeing us."

I pretended to laugh a bit.

"Some funny friend you got there."

"Yeah, he's a riot," he said wryly, "If he hadn't have waved, it wouldn't have been so bad."

"Mimi," Mom said, "Come on. We have to get home."

"Mom," I said softly, "No one calls me Mimi."

"Dad did, sweetie." she whispered.

"Only Grampy can call me Mimi."

Mom was quiet. Maybe she'd stop trying to fill Grampy's void now. Dont get me wrong...I love my parents alot, but they can't be parents and grandparents at the same time.

"Maybe I'll see you here down the road sometime," I said, turning back to the kid, "You know, after this has all blown over."

"Maybe. Bye, Naomi."

"Let's _go_, Naomi."

"Coming, Mom, slow down!"

The drive home was very quiet until my mom spoke up about ten minutes from home.

"You don't associate with anyone like those boys in the church, you know that, Naomi?"

"I know, Mom. I don't want to."

"I just wanted to make sure."

I did, however, return to the church to sing again a few times in the next couple months, but those hoods never came back. Even though I was furious with them at one point for having ruined my performance, I started to wish they _would_ come back.

I also started to wonder about my mother. True, I was obsessed with getting to London someday, but she seemed just as excited about it asI was. This made me worry about what might happen if I ever changed my mind about the whole thing.


	2. Prove It

My Second Chapter.It's surprising how much I like my new story. I'll update my other one after I get to five chapters on this one. It'll be about a week or so. Seriously, I can't not write OCs. I just love them. It'll be the day when I write a story that's more than a oneshot or a song fic that doesn't have additional characters.

* * *

I'd been doing some thinking since February. Something had really struck me dumb about how that kid had actually apologized to me for interupting my performance. I mean, it was really polite, and the right thing to do, but I guess I just didn't expect that the right thing would come from a hood. He hadn't even done anything, yet he apologized. That surprised me. But since that kid _did _bother to apologize, it ticked me off just a bit that the guy who actuallydropped the book didn't. 

August 11, 1967

It was two months until my birthday,(and three days, 24 years till I'm born!)and since my best friend Hannah was moving to Oklahoma City in a week, we decided to have mine, hers and my other friend Ashley's birthday parties all at the same time.

"Naomi, how tall are you?"

I threw my pillow at Ashley. I'm shorter than all of my friends, but then, all my friends are kinda tall except for Hannah. Hannah is only half an inch taller than me.

"I'm serious this time, Nay, what's your height?"

"Five foot five and a half." I muttered.

"I'm only five foot six," quipped Hannah.

"My cousin Travis is shorter than me," I pointed out, "And he's seventeen."

"How come I've never met Travis?" My friend Daphne asked, "He's been to Tulsa before, hasn't he?"

"Yeah, but he hasn't been back for awhile. We mostly go to see them in Missouri."

"He's her cousin that got beat up, Daph." Hannah snorted, rolling her eyes. Sheknows everything about me, and sometimes it seems weird to our other friends.

Ashley shuddered.

"I'd be scared to come back too, if I were him." Daphne and Emilie nodded in agreement.

"It's not like they'd hurt him again, but just to be careful, you know?" I said,"They'd-"

"They'd hurt him again, sure as anythin," Emilie said, her brown eyes wide with confirmation, "They'd hurt him faster'n you could try'n stop 'em."

"They wouldn't recognize him, guys," Hannah rolled her eyes.

"They'd more'n likely try to hurt him even if they didn't." Emilie was pulling her dirty blonde hair into a ponytail behind her head repetatively.

"How do you know?" I asked suddenly. The image of the kid from that time inchurch was in my head, and I somehow didn't think that he'd beat up anyone the way Travis was.

"My Lord, Naomi," Ashley bounced off her bed and sat down beside me, "All those hoods and greasers over there on the east side don't give a _damn_ who you are. They jump just about everyone who goes over there."

"You nearly didn' go singin' over'n the east side 'cause you were scared of 'em." Emilie pointed out.

"Yeah, but that was in February. It's August now." It was the lamest excuse I had heard of, but I couldn't think of anything else. I couldn't very well say that some hood kid had shown that they weren't all monsters.

"You're bluffin'." I looked at Emilie quickly, my eyes blazing yellow. But likeI said - I get yellow eyes when I feel any strong emotion, so for all she knew, I could be really nervous about them finding out I was lying. Which I wasn't. Lying, I mean. I wasn't lying. I really wasn't scared ofgreasers or hoods anymore.

"Prove it." Daphne jumped down beside Ashley. Ashley looked sort of like Hannah - dark brown hair, and piercing blue eyes. Ashley was a bit taller, and she had longer, thinner hair. Daphne had jet black hair, nearly black eyes, and pale white skin. She would come off very ghastly if it weren't forher personality, she was friendly, bubbly, energetic- and had a certain love for gossip. So when she suggested I prove it, I wasn't surprised. At all. I mean, sheloved nothing more than to seeembarrasing things happen to others.

"How?"

"Uh..." That was Daph, all right.Cut to the chase, and figure out _what _the chase was later.

"I know." Ashley was quick to say, "Go to that record store down on the east side tomorrow. A lot of hoods hang out there. You have to stay in there for half an hour."

"They'll think she's stealing," Hannah burst out loudly, "No one stays in a record store that long without buying something!"

"Those greasers do it all the time!"

"Just because I'm not scared of them doesn't mean I want to come off as one!"

"So buy somethin'." Emilie suggested, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Ew, no!" I said, "That's likely the worst music in the world!"

"You're gonna have to."

"Fine. _Then_ will you believe me?"

" 'Course. Now, can we pleeeeease go teh sleep now? Feel like mah eyelids're gonna just drop." Emilie flopped back, and her hair fell all over her face.

"Yeah, I need all the sleep I can get." I muttered, kicking Ashley's ramshackle old lamp with my foot. It was the only way to turn it off.


	3. Difference

Woo Hoo. I finally got a review. :-P

Three Chapters to go before I update my _other_ story.

* * *

"Okay, Naomi, It's over there." 

I peered in the direction that Daphne was pointing. I could tell that it was a hood hangout, alright. A dull grey building with a rust brown roof, sun-faded posters in the windows of bands I'd never heard of, and by the sound of the music coming from inside,I was pretty sure I didn't want to hear of them.

"Are you guys gonna come with me?" I whined, because I was still apprehensive about going in there.

"You have to do it alone, Nay, that was part of the deal. Otherwise, we can all go home, and you can admit that you're scared. Just like the rest of us."

"I'm not scared." I pulled on the fraying edge of my sweater. I wasn't scared of anyone from the east side. They wouldn't hurt me. They _probably_ weren't as wild and violent as they seemed. I guess I was scared for my reputation. What if someone from school saw me in there? What if someone I saw in _there_ came up to me in September and said, "Hey, didn't I see you..." It was a difficult choice, but I knew that if I said I was scared for my reputation, they'd say I was lying.

Next thing I knew, I was on my way up to the music store. I was putting my reputation at stake to save the reputation I had with my friends. The glass door opened easily. Easily enough that I noticed it was missing the top window pane, which would explain why it was so light. There were a few people over by the window, so I high-tailed it to the back of the store. I figured I could hide the whole time. I checked my watch - 2:02. I had to stay in here until 2:32. Perfect.

Somehow, it occured to me that, despite my insisting that I wasn't, I really was scared of these hoods. They probably wouldn't hurt me in a store, but they could still come over here and bother me.

I decided to occupy myself by looking through the records infront of me. I'd heard of some of these bands and singers, but I hadn't heard alot of their music. I mostly listened to the stuff I sang, which a lot of the times was classical, or as my mom would call it, 'Good Ole Fashion' type stuff. My friends thought it was sort of wierd, except for Hannah. Hannah listened to it with me, even though I had a feeling she didn't like it much. This stuff looked like the music Ashley listened to, not Hannah. Somehow, my mind wandered back to how much I'd miss Hannah when she moved away. She was the only person I could really identify with after Grampy died, and now she was leaving. You can't replace someone who really understands you as a person - there was no replacement for Hannah, no replacement for Grampy. Thinking about Grampy made my throat sting and my eyes well up momentarily, just returning to the thought that he's never coming back...I concerntrated on the records infront of me...

_...The Doors...The Beatles...The Monkees...The Critters...Procol Harum...The Young Rascals...The Hollies..._

I checked my watch again. 2:09.

_...The Happenings...Jefferson Airplane...Neil Diamond...The Supremes...The Turtles...Bobby Gentry..._

2:12...

_...The Hollies...The Association...Janis Ian...Jay and the Techniques...Wilson Pi-_

"Hi."

I was concentrating so hard on the records that my heart missed beating for a second. I whipped around so fast that my hair batted me in the face. I was surprised to see that kid who had apologized to me at the church. I was also disapointed to see that we were eye to eye in height. Maybe I was shorter thanI thought.

"Hi." Somehow I knew my eyes were turned yellow, but for once in my life, I had no idea why. Now, I think it might have been relief of seeing someone there that I almost know.

"I thought I might have recognized you when you came in."

"Yeah. I guess I just came back here."

"I don't normally see you in here."

"I don't normally come here."

"Why did you come here today?"

I had expected to be able to dance around that one. But somehow, I didn't mind telling him.

"My friends dared me."

He looked mildly surprised.

"Why'd they dare you?"

"They think that..." I was apprehensive about saying why, because I didn't want to upset him, but I continued, "They think I'm scared of hoods from east side, so they dared me to come in here for half an hour."

"Not everyone on the east side are hoods."

"Well, I know that, but-"

"Most of the time, I don't even consider myself a hood.Just a greaser. There _is_ a difference. I mean, I stay out of trouble as best I can, and I never steal or beat people up for no reason."

I thought about this. It could be true.

"I have ten more minutes before I can get away from this place. I mean, I'm just not into this music."

"Yeah...you want to be careful 'round Willie behind his desk up there. You've been hiding back here for the past twenty minutes, he'll think you're stealin'."

"Oh, yeah. My friends warned me about that. I have to buy something." I looked at the records, disgusted.

"You don't like most of this stuff?"

"A lot of it I've never heard."

"Well..why don't you try this?" He handed me a record. I looked at the front.

"Neil Diamond?"

"I heard it's not as loud as some of the stuff you'd find in here."

"Ever listened to it?"

"No."

I shrugged, and checked my watch again- 2:30.

"I guess I should buy this now," I smirked, "I'll have fun listening to it."

"You should give it a try."

"You've never tried it."

"You might like it." He turned and walked back to the front of the store by the window. I payed for my record and left.

"What'd you buy?" Daphne grabbed the bag and looked in, "Neil Diamond?"

"Yeah,a kid in there said I should try it, even though he's never listened to it himself."

"_Kids_ go in there?"

"Not a _kid_ kid, Daph," I rolled my eyes, "I'd say he's thirteen or fourteen, but I'm calling him a kid."

"Oh. So, he's one of those hoods, then?"

"No. He's just a greaser."

"Naomi, it's the same thing."

"_No_ it's not."

"_Yes_ it is."

"Daph, define the word 'hoodlum.' "

"Well...they always get in trouble with the police, they get drunk all the time, they do alot of wierd drugs, they steal things, cheat, jump people, rob stores..."

"The kid I met in there didn't do any of that. But he _is_ a greaser. Before you ask, he said it himself."

Daphne was quiet. She's always quiet after someone proves her wrong...which happens alot.

When I got home, Mom and Dad were both gone. I sighed and looked at my new record. It was worth a try.


	4. Asking Directions

I really wanted to make Naomi like The Eagles, since I like them, but most of the songs I know didn't come out until the seventies. I settled for Neil Diamond... "Love you so much can't count all the ways, I'd die for you girl, and all they can say is 'He's not your kind' "

Love that song.

Anywho...

* * *

There was something about that recordI couldn't touch base on. It was one song that really got me - Solitary Man. I understood the lyrics, about a guy who's been cheated on and dumped and he's waiting for the right person to come along who won't treat him badly, and there was decent music in the background, but there was something about it that made me keep listening to it. Something good about it. I actually _liked_ it. 

**August 23 1967**

My mom and dad were both away, and I decided to pull out my guitar -I hadn't played in a week or more - and try to play along. It was hard, since I barely ever played by ear, butI got the first verse down by the time my mom came back. She asked to hear what I was playing, and I played a quick tune I remembered from my second year of lessons.

**August 29 1967**

I had finally finished learning to play Solitary Man on my guitar. I played it over and over again until it was inside my head. Just as I was finishing playing it the fifth or six time, I noticed I was humming along. It sounded good. For the first time, I thought about singing different styles of music. This wasn't opera or anything, but I liked it. I played the introduction on my guitar - this time, I didn't play the record - and started to sing along slower than normal, so I could remember the words.

_"Melinda was mine, til the time, that I found her, holding Jim, Loving him,"_

My fingers skipped a chord, but I kept going on,

_"Then Sue came along, Loved me strong, that's what I thought, Me and Sue, But that died too,"_

I thought I heard a faint scraping, outside my house. Funny how when you're concentrating on something hard enough, every sound seems to be so loud - even the ones that aren't there,

_"Dont know that I will, but until I can find me, a girl who'll stay, and won't play games behind me, I'll be what I am, A-"_

"Naomi?"

I whipped around. Mom was standing there, her work coat draped over her shoulder, and grocery bags in her hands.

"Hi, Mom," I set my guitar down, and walked over to the door, "Here." I took a grocery bag from her hand and walked into the kitchen.

"Naomi, what were you singing?"

"A song I know."

"It's a pretty song." I breathed out heavily with relief. I though for sure that she'd be mad or something, but I didn't know why, "Where'd you learn it?"

"I have the record."

"Where did you get the record?"

"I-" I was about to say, 'I was down in eastern Tulsa in that record shop, and someone I met in there told me I should try it.' Yeah, that'd blow over well. "Daphne gave it to me for a birthday present. You know, just teasing me a bit for always liking to sing opera music, butI actually like it."

"That was nice of her." Mom smiled and set a carton of milk in the refridgerator, "When I was a kid, we'd listen toGrandpaplay on the piano downstairs. Now you kids are giving records to each other for your birthdays."

I smiled. Like I said - I'm an accomplished liar. Only to my parents, though. Most of the time.

Then she said what I had been trying to dance around.

"What store did she get it from?"

"Uh...that store down the street from Ashley's, I think." I prayed she wouldn't know that store had closed a month earlier.

"That one doesn't operate anymore, honey." I heard her voice from the cupboard where she was putting away a box of crackers.

"Oh. Maybe that one over in western Tulsa, what's it called again?"

"Dear, that's I bought most of my records. They don't sell the kind of music you were playing in there."

"I don't know where she bought it then, Mom."

"I think she got it from that store down where those hoodlums hang out, Nay, and-" She looked up the sink, which she had been filling with soapy water, "I'm not trying to upset you, Naomi." I looked down, letting a dozen loose blonde curls fall in front of my yellow eyes, "But a nice girl shouldn't be down with that type."

"Some of them are nice people, Mom." my vioce faltered, "They aren't all hoodlums."

"Okay, Naomi, these kids over on that side. I don't know what you kids call them, but-"

"Mom, anyone who lives on the east side is called a greaser, but that doesn't make them a hood."

"They're all bad influences, Naomi."

"No, Mom they aren't." My voice was rising, but this time,I didn't feel like I was going to cry, "I was at the record store over on the east side, and one of the kids told me I should try this record."

"Naomi, you can't keep changing your style of music if you want a career at this point in your life-"

"I have lots of time, Mom! I can listen to the music I want, and I can be friends with who I want, even if they might not be right up to  
_your _standards."

Mom was silent. I hadn't said anything that bad, even.

"Naomi Alexandra," she said quietly, "I forbid you to ever associate with anyone from that side of town."

"Mom, you're a narrow-minded, possessive bitch." I ran upstairs, because _now_ I felt like crying.

* * *

**September 12 1967**

"You're actually going to _talk _to them?" Ashley was biting her already too-short nails.

"Uh, yeah, what else would I do? Stand there and mime?"

"I mean, what if someone sees us?"

"I haven't thought that far ahead yet." I admitted. I was really just looking for some way to get out of the house. I knew I'd over reacted with Mom. She hadn't said anything offensive to _me_. I had been scared she was going to say something bad about my friends letting me go to the east side...or them influencing me to go over there...I'd apologized, and she hadn't said anything. Iwish Grampy were here, because I could have talked to him about it, and he could have talked to her. I'd already told Hannah about it when she called from her new house, but no one took Grampy's place - not even Hannah.

"Where to now?"

"I guess we can go to the record store. I mean, that's where I saw that kid last time, and it's the only place I know my way to around here."

"You know your way?"

"Not even."

"Great. This is just _perfect. _Do you know the direction we came from?"

"Uh...no?"

"What do we do then, Naomi?" Ashley was talking fast but quiet, a sign that meant she was starting to panic.

"Ask directions." I started to walk towards a group of guys all huddled in a tight circle. They were all looking at something, apparently, and I wasn't sure I wanted to disturb them. But then, I wanted to get home as much as Ashley did.

"Are you crazy?" Ashley ran along beside me to keep up with my pace, which wasn't hard for her since she's alot taller than me and has longer legs.

"Apparently."

I was about twenty feet away now...fifteen...ten...five...

"Excuse me?"

One of the guys - he had dead looking eyes and a suspicious looking scar on his jaw - turned and looked at me. He just stared...I'd swear he was a corpse if he wasn't breathing so heavily, probably from smoking so much - and then he looked back into the circle. Just ignored me.

I looked desperately at Ashley, and she looked as frustrated as I did.

"Hey!" I barked, and all the guys turned and looked at me. They all had dead looking eyes, and bruises or cuts, or scars on their faces...I still don't know why I didn't run away screaming, because I think if they had wanted to kill us right then they could have. Especially since the object they were all admiring was a knife. It was held by a guy with black hair, black eyes, and pale skin - like Daphne, except this guy _did _look ghastly. He was a head taller than anyone else.

"What?" He spat in a low, scornful voice.

"What way's the record store?" I said in the samevoice- I don't know how I held it - like I was pissed off at them all but I had to talk to them.

He looked at me. I almost thought I saw his eyes flicker, if only for a second. He just looked angry. He narrowed his eyes and held his switchblade tightly in his hand, walking slowly towards us.

_Oh Man, _I thought, _He's gonna kill us... _

I reached for Ashley's hand to pull her away incase we had to run, because, by the look on her face, the only thing going through her head was sheer terror. It was one of the only things going through my head, too, and I didn't blame myself.

It was only a matter or who would have to move first - us or them.


	5. It's Closed

Yeah, I'm fully aware Naomi is of the Mary-Sue type. It's all part of my plan... She's just a preppy, well behaved girl.

So far.

I have no idea what the hell I'm talking about.

I stress my characters eyes alot because that's one thing about creating characters that I love. If you run out of something to write about, you can fall back on the signifigance of eye color or whatnot, or at least I can. Hey, it might just happen in my other story

* * *

Last Time: 

_"What way's the record store?" I said in the same voice- I don't know how I held it - like I was pissed off at them all but I had  
to talk to them._

_He looked at me. I almost thought I saw his eyes flicker, if only for a second. He just looked angry. He narrowed his eyes and held his switchblade tightly in his hand, walking slowly towards us._

_**Oh Man**, I thought, **He's gonna kill us...** _

_I reached for Ashley's hand to pull her away incase we had to run, because, by the look on her face, the only thing going  
__through her head was sheer terror. It was one of the only things going through my head, too, and I didn't blame myself._

_It was only a matter or who would have to move first - us or them._

"Over there." He nodded his head towards the intersection, "Now get lost, you-" He called us a few names I wasn't sure I'd ever heard before.

I still had no idea where it was, but I was pretty sure I wasn't going to bother these guys anymore. I pulled Ashley away, her face white as a sheet.

"There," She said shakily, once we were away, "We've conversed with the darling east side type. Now can we please go home before someone else nearly knifes us?"

"No," I said sarcastically, "That wasn't a close enough call."

"Then let's go!"

"I still want to get to the record store." I shook my head, trying to get the curls to stay out of my eyes. I was in need of a haircut - most of the time, I could only have my hair a little past my shoulders without it bothering me. Grampy used to tell me how much I looked like Gramma, how she had _waist_ length curly blonde hair. So I'd try and let my hair grow as long as I could, but by the time it got to the edge of my shoulder blades, I'd be going crazy and need it cut.

"Not if I can manage to hold your head still. You won't be able to get that mop off your face and then you'll get disoriented and I'll lead you home."

"Good luck." I took off running, and pretty near ran right by the record store. It had stood out to us last time, because there was a crowd, music was blaring, and the door was swinging in the wind. This time, the door had been fixed and everything was silent. It looked like the place was-

"_Closed_!" Ashley moaned, running up beside me and stamping her foot.

"C'mon, let's try the door. It might just be a quiet day."

"Yeah. An empty, quiet day."

I knew the store couldn't be open, but I wanted to try it anyway. Just incase, by some weird stretch of luck, it was.

I was about to say, "It's locked," but I never got the chance. Instead, someone else said it for me.

"Store's locked, kid."

I spun around, in the process grabbing Ashley's arm and pressing my back against the metal door handle. I yelped and jumped forward. I hadn't heard him come up behind me, but then, I was making a racket trying to open the door. He looked like he might hurt us if given the chance. I had a cousin who looked a little like him, but this guy's hair was blonder.

"You wanna get the kid outta here." He lit up a cigarette and regarded Ashley knowingly.

"What?"

"I _said_ you shouldn't have a _kid_ around these parts."

"We were going into the record store," Ashley muttered, "_Asshole..."_

"Some mouth on a socy girl." He smiled, but it wasn't a friendly smile.

"I'm not a goddamn Soc," Ashley snarled, and I chose not to point out the fine line between high, highmiddle class and beingconsidered one of the rich kids, "And for the record, this isn't a kid. She's nearly sixteen."

"Ashley," I hissed, "Bad idea. _Bad Bad **BAD** _idea." But she already seemed to know.

"What are you doing in these parts, then?" He questioned slyly.

"We were going to the record store,"I said, not as confident as Ashley was, but I didn't feel like she should have to do all the talking. After all, it _was_ my fault she was here in the first place.

"On the east side? Don't you got enough record stores over where you live?" He stepped closer to us, and I pulled Ashley a few feet to the side.

"No, we don't." I was still scared. You can bluff all you want about not being scared of them, but when you're face to face with a hoodlum that's questioning you in a strange way, you're scared. You really are.

"None over on the west side?"

"No, the ones on the west side don't sell the kind of music we're looking for."

"What kind of music?"

I couldn't say anything without him questioning me back.

"I...I was looking for a Neil Diamond record."

"Neil Diamond..." He cursed, and to my surprised, turned and walked away.

"So," hissed Ashleyquietly, "This is the species of human that you claim spoke to you calmly _twice_?"

"Two separate human beings, Ashley, obviously they're going to be different-"

"You and Hannah were mentally identicle!"

"You say you talked to someone over here?" He turned around suddenly, sauntering back over to us, "Who?"

"I don't know his name."

"What'd he look like?"

"Uh...About so tall, brown hair?"

"That narrows it down," he growled sarastically, "How old did he look?"

"About fourteen or fifteen. Not sixteen."

"Who'd you see him with?"

I tried to remember who the kid was with in the store, but he'd been alone when he'd talked to me, so I had to think back to the church. Who was he sitting with? I could only remember the guy who dropped the book, and the guy who'd waved. He was with someone else, who had blonde hair, I think...and another guy, who'd had...black hair?

"Two of the guys had dark hair, I'm pretty sure, and one had...blonde hair? One had a really goofy grin..."

"Sounds like Pony."

"Greeeeeeaaaat...So, I guess we'll be leaving now-"

"Kid got into some trouble lately," he ignored my comment, "Friend of his killed a Soc. Been on the run."

"Great. Why are you telling me this?"

"Where'd you talk to the kid?"

"At a church, okay? Now we're leaving."

"Church! Glory..."

Ashley and I hurried away, but by the time I got home, I was wishing I'd stayed back and answered that hood's questions. My Dad's car was in the driveway, and this was the first time he'd actually turned off the car long while he was inside, so he must have been staying. And this was the first time since I'd called my Mom a narrow-minded, possessive bitch that I'd seen my Dad long enough for him to talk to me. I took a deep breath, and tried to get by the doorway of the living room without him seeing me.

"Naomi? Could you please come in here for a second?"

I walked back to the door and looked in at my parents.

"Your mother's been telling me that you've been playing a nice song on your guitar, and I'd like to hear it."

I didn't say anything, rather cautiously walked over to my guitar, opened the case slowly, watching my parents, and pulled it out and sat down slowly on the couch, and started to play without a single word.

I got through the song until

_"I know it's been done, havin' one-"_

"That's enough, Naomi." I stopped playing, and looked up at my Dad, "Where did you get the music?"

"Mom hasn't told you?"

"She has, but I want to hear it from you."

Did he think I was going to try to lie, to defend myself, or insist my Mom was lying?

"Exactly what she said. I went over to that record store on the east side and bought the record."

"Why, Naomi?"

"No reason why not."

"You know your mother and I don't like the thought of you going over there."

"I don't like the thought of you leaving every single week for business meetings and stuff like that, Dad."

"But it's for my job, honey-"

"You and Mom seem pretty hell-bent on my career being in music, so why can't I go toa music store?"

"Naomi, your grandfather wouldn't have wanted-"

"Mom, he would have wanted me to have fun with my music at fifteen years old."

"You're nearly sixteen, Naomi."

"Not for another month, Mom."

"One day short of a month, and you'll be sixteen. It's time to start taking it seriously."

"Okay Mom," I sighed, "What do you suggest I do different?"

"You can perform at this convert we've managed to get you booked into. And _no_ Neil Diamond." She warned, "My friend Shirley said she could help coach you vocally for a few beautiful songs she knows everyone would love."

"Sure, Mom. And you have to come over to the east side with me...sometime." I remembered that the only normal kid I sort of knew was currently on the run for murder. Maybe I wouldn't tell her that.

"Maybe after the concert."

"When is it?"

"February."


	6. You've Changed

I agree, Neil Diamond is very mellow, but Naomi's parents are very...O.o

Crazy.

I suppose the concert will be held somewhere in Tulsa or nearby. I'll decide soon.

I finally updated my other story! And gave it a creepy/murderous/family-connection-making twist!

* * *

**September Somthingeth 1967**

"It's a shame, really, these children never would end up that way if their parents tried to discipline them."

Ashley and I were working on a school project, and we didn't even look up when her mother got started on another one of her rants about today's youth.

"I agree, dear." Ashley's father barely even paid any attention to the rants, either.

"And look, these two boys were friends. The poor dear, he never got a chance at a life."

_This _made us look up at each other. Ashley's mother...talking about some hood who'd never had discipline...now, she was calling him a 'poor dear'.

Ashley and I both silently walked into the room.

"Mom...what are you reading?" She eyed the paper in her mother's hand.

"Oh, girls, some poor boy was gunned down by the police last night."

"Someone did something bad enough to get cornered by the police and _you're_ calling him a poor boy?" Ashley looked at her mother as if she didn't know her.

"No, dear, it says he lost a friend previously that night. He just wasn't emotionally strong."

"Oh." Ashley and I exchanged glances, "Can I see the paper, Mom?"

"Of course, dear." She handed the paper to Ashley who's eyes scanned the page, finally locking on one spot. I couldn't read her like I could read Hannah, but the disbelief was obvious on her face. I peered over her shoulder to see what she was looking at, and in a way, I found it hardto believe myself.

It was the guy who we'd talked to last week. He was dead now.

**Two/ThreeWeeks Later...**

"Naomi, can we talk to you?"

I was apprehensive about going with them. My friends had sombre faces, and they were all staring at me as though I was dying or something.

"Yeah...Just a sec-" I grabbed my coat and followed them outside. We went out on walks alot these nights, since we didn't see each other alot in school, so it seemed obvious that we would go on the same route. We'd walk along the road that eventually would get you to central East side, but we never went all the way down.

"It's been hard trying to find a way to tell you this, Naomi," Daphne was looking at her feet by speaking to me, "But the thing is...you've changed." She stole a glance at me, but when she saw that I wasn't going to break eye contact with her first, she looked back at her feet, "I mean...you never joke around anymore. Remember how much we used to make fun of each other? And you'd always have a new joke to tell. You hardly even laugh anymore, Naomi."

"My grandfather died and Hannah moved away. What would _you_ do? _Laugh_ about it?"

"Nay, you're taking this the wrong way-"

"How would you take it? My God..." I stopped walking and faced them all.

"Naomi-" Emilie said softly, and I could tell that none of them really wanted to be the one to talk to me, "We just can't relate to you anymore."

"You haven't _tried_ to relate to me," I pulled on the fraying edge of my jacket and looked upwards, as if by doing this I could force back the tears that were coming, "You guys have always had each other, haven't you? I had Hannah and Grampy, but I never really had you guys to understand me and relate to me. You've always had each other and that's not going to change. You've always come to me with your problems and all your beefs and I've sat there and listened. Well you know what?" I started to back away from them, and shaking my head as though I were trying to rid myself of thoughts, "I'm sick of pretending I care. You guys should try listening to your own problems for once."

I spun on my heel and started to walk away, a dozen thoughts streaming through my head.

_Was _I acting different? I wasn't laughing and joking as much, no, and I was acting a little more girly, but that was all part of growing up.

Wasn't it?

I was scared when a hand came down on my shoulder a little while later, but it was only Ashley. I jerked my arm away, but she grabbed my other elbow.

"I'm coming with you."

"Where?" It occured to me that I didn't know where I had been walking with my head down for the last God knows how long.

"I dunno. We're clear into the East Side, Nay."

I looked around. So we were.

"How long've I been going for?"

"About twenty minutes."

"Why didn't you stop me?"

"You seemed deep in thought, and I didn't want to further piss you off.But I decided you could go on for awhile, so I stopped you."

"Let's keep walking, then."

"Where?" I asked again.

"You want to...You want to go see the kid who you talked to?"

"Why?"

"I dunno. He musta kinda known that guy who died, huh?"

"Well...probably. He never told us how well they knew each other."

"He seemed to be able to place him pretty quickly, so..."

"I guess..."

"Hey, you've lost someone close to you too.Might do the two of you some good."

I wasn't sure what part Ashley might have had in confronting me about how I've changed, but I was happy for company right now. Ashley must have sensed my mild discomfort, because she changed the topic.

"So, I haven't asked you yet. How's it going with Shirley?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, well, last Monday we started, and she hasn't told me what she wants me to sing yet. She just keeps getting me to try and hit really high notes. It kills."

"It would. Any birthday plans?"

"No. I don't think I'm doing anything this year. It's in a week."

"For once since grade three, I'm not doing anything on October 11. Has Shirley even been hinting on any songs?"

"Well...she keeps talking about how much she loves operas like Carmen...The Marriage of Figaro...The Queen of Spades...and a few others that don't register with me."

"That's pretty cool...but have you ever really sang any songs like those?"

"No. Not even close."

"I just thought of something, Naomi."

"What?"

"We don't know where to find _anyone_ around here."

"Well, we'll just ask. What'd that guy say the kid's name was?"

"I'm thinking he said it was Pony."

"Well, _that_ shouldn't be too hard."

"But no one's around. Who're we going to ask?"

"We can go to the record store." I said with finality.

"Right on."

But we didn't find anyone there except for someone who I was pretty sure was in the gang of guys that had been looking at the knife when Ashley and I first came over to the East Side.

We checked every store, every hangout in town but never found anyone until finally, at a small conveniencestore, we came face to face with the guy who'd waved with everyone at the church after his friend had dropped the hymn book. We'd asked him if he knew anyone named Pony. His face lit up and he said yeah, he knew the kid well. He didn't know where he might be right then, and when he asked for directions to his house, he admitted he was semi-drunk at the time and couldn't remember how to get to the kid's house from here.It was obvious that he was more than just semi-drunk when he told Ashley she'd make a cute blonde.

Finally, Ashley and I had given up, and we were walking back, when Ashley pointed into a nearby gas station.

"Is that him?"

I looked in, and my blood froze cold. It was the one who'd dropped the hymn book.

"No, butI know him." I turned and walked quickly to the station, because I've always had a bad habit of not forgiving people until I can tell them off.

"You never told me you knew _two_ people over here."

"Slipped my mind."

"Naomi, _stop_." Ashley grabbed my arm and turned me around. It wasn't hard, because she's alot stronger than I am, "You're going to make an idiot of yourself."

"How would _you_ know?"

"Do _you_ think you are?"

"Yeah, probably."

"Okay, cat-eyes, cool down." I cooled down, and when I realized she was monitering my face closly, I inched out of the streetlight - it was dark by now - so that my eyes appeared a cool tea color.

"Okay...what are you going to do?"

"Really? I was thinking I might tell him about how he ruined my performance last February."

"Naomi..."

"It hacked me _off_, Ashley. If you don't let go of my arm, I'll complain about it for the rest of your life."

"Are you gonna do something stupid?"

"Probably."

"Are...you gonna feel better?"

"Yeah."

"Okay," She let go of my arm, "Go."

I was surprised at how quickly she let go, maybe because I can be _really_ annoying when I put my mind to it. She followed me inside, though. Even if my other friends had more or less ditched me, Ashley wouldn't. I was sure of that.

The guy looked up when we came in. I looked at his name tag quickly. His name was Steve. I think he was surprised to see us at this time of night without a car, especially when Ashley barely looks old enough to drive, and I looked about fourteen.

"How can I help you?" His voice sounded bored and monotonous. I couldn't blame him, I'd be pretty bored too if I had to work this late.

"I have something to clear up with you." I said in a quiet voice, since there were about three other people in the back of the room and I just really didn't feel like the getting involved.

"Yeah?"

"You and your friends came to a church last February where I was singing."

"I remember."

"While I was singing, you dropped a hymn book and interupted my song."

"I know."

There was a heavy silence.

"Why'dyou tell me that?"

"I wanted to come in and tell you that I remember it andit hacked me off."

"Okay." When I continued to stare at him, he looked angry and said, "Okay, then, I'm sorry I dropped a book."

I didn't talk, rather than just give him a angry look back and left.

"I forgot," I said suddenly, when we were across the street and then some down the sidewalk, "We should've asked him how to find the kid!"

"Let's go back, then." Ashley turned on her heel and started back towards the building.

"Uh...Ashley?"

"Hm?"

"That would be embarrasing."

"I'll talk, then. C'mon, otherwise we'll just be back here again. Might as well get it done this time."

"Fine."

I was staring at the floorand trying my best to make it look like Ashley made me go back to the station when we went in again.

"How can I help you." This Steve character looked annoyed that we were back. That made two of us.

"Hi," Ashley said as nicely as she could, "We were looking for a kid named Pony and we were wondering if you could help us?"

"Yeah. Here, I'll give you directions - or, wait a sec..." He walked calmly over to a door into what appeared to be a back room and stood there for a second. I could have sworn he was about to pass out or something, the way he was just looking around that room, when all of sudden he screamed,

"HEY! SODA! YOU IN HERE?"

Ashley and I cringed, and the other two guys looked up from their paper work.

"Yep." A muffled voice replied.

"Sounds like he's checking to make sure his hostage is still in the broom closet where he left him," I whispered to Ashley, who giggled, and replied, "I wish I had parents that would name me something like these ones over here. There's Pony, and Soda, and that drunk guy said his name was Two-Bit-"

"He was _drunk_, Ashley, so for all we know..."

Steve disappeared into the back room. About five minutes later, he reappeared.

"You can follow his brother home in five minutes."

"Uh...what if we wanted to come back tomorrow instead?"

"You-" He began sourly, but after exchanging glances with one of the old guys in the back, he continued, "I'll make you a map. Here."

He scribbled something out on a piece of paper and handed it to us. The old man in the back noddded approvingly.

We went outside, and read it. It said,

_If you want to go tomorrow instead, you  
have to remember where Soda goes tonight  
and go there tomorrow. And be less uptight  
when something goes wrong with your singing._

Ashley looked at me for a second, and started to laugh.I laughed lightly, but that was one thing I had to give to Emilie and Daphne. I really didn't laugh much anymore.

We went back in, and I really did keep my eyes on the floor this time, because I'd gone in there first thinking I was going to tell this guy off, and here he'd gotten the better of me.

"Don't look so happy."

I jumped out of my trance-like state, and banged my head on the wall. It wasn't just a normal bump, it left a nasty goose egg, but I tried to smile and laugh along with Ashley and whoever said it- I didn't see whoever said it when I hit my head, and after that my self confidence level was dwindling too much to put my head up again. So I laughed at my shoes.

I figured it must have been this Soda character who was there, but by the timeI stopped looking at the ground using my mop of hair to cover my face, we were well outside and on our way home. I was about ten or more feet behind Ashley and Soda, licking my wounds, you might say. They were talking about something that I wasn't paying attention to. Ashley has this way of being friends with everyone she meets. I think Steve might have actually not hated her. It's one of the first things I'm jealous of her of after height.

Eventually, Ashley called back to me. It was nice to know she remembered I was there. Myand my broken self-image.

How could I make myself look stupid three times in one night?

"Naomi, c'mere."

I didn't want to. ButI did.

"Yeah?"

"You've been way backthere the whole time."

"Yeah, myhead hurts."

"Nasty bump," Soda said from about two feet to Ashley's left, "I didn't mean to scare you, but you looked awful down."

I looked around Ashley, surprised that he'd spoken. Now that I actually looked at him...he was kinda cute.

"That Steve character in there..." I said, exasperated, "I told him about how he ruined my song, and then he managed to make me look stupid..."

"How'd he ruin your song?"

"I was singing at a church...he dropped a hymn book somehow, and it made a really loud bang on the ground. The organist stopped playing...it was awful."

"It was awful for my brother, too. He was really embarrased."

"I know. He came to tell me he was sorry later...you remember that?"

"I was there."

"I don't remember you." I nearly said 'I don't remember you being so damn good-looking' but I caught myself just in time. Otherwise I would have made myself look stupid four times in half and hour, and I might just start to walk directly towards an oncoming car.

I suddenly realized that blurting things out was something I used to do up until Grampy died. Maybe I was starting to act like my old self again, just because Emilie and Daphne had pointed it out.

"You're a good singer."

I felt myself blushing behind the weight on my head that I call my hair, another quality I thought I'd ditched when Grampy died, but I was a born performer.My voicedidn't falter.

"Thank You." (Mickey's version of A Christmas Carol is on TV! KICKASS! Christmas Freakin' Tradition!)

"Tell him what you said when Steve was yelling into the back room, Naomi!" Ashley said, and I realized how long it had been since someone had asked me to repeat something funny I'd said. It used to always be, 'What were you saying again, Nay-' or 'Tell them about the time where you said this-' Or Grampy would say, 'Mimi, what was that you said just a few minutes ago? I can't remember now.'

So naturally, I was thrilled. I'd show Daphne and Emilie I'd never changed.

"I was saying that it sounded like he was yelling to see if his hostage was still in the broom cupboard where he left him." I still didn't see what was funny about the it, because that was seriously the first thing that had come to mind. But Ashley and Soda found it funny. It was nice to have people laughing at my jokes again. I didn't realize how much I missed it.


	7. We Really Must Be Going

I want to try to get this story to Christmas before we hit Christmas ourselves here.

* * *

"Hey, Pony," Ashley said kindly, but I couldn't help but think it sounded like she was talking to a three year old. 

"Hi," he looked a little confused, and I serisouly couldn't blame him. I wasn't entirely sure he remembered who I was...which could turn out to be very, very awkward.

"We just came to see how you were doing. You know, we read in the paper about...we just wondered how you were doing."

"I'm...fine, really..."

"Pony, you finish your math?" A voice called from inside, cutting him off.

"No, but I'm nearly done! Just a minute!" He stepped outside, closing the door gently behind him, "How'd you know where I live?"

"We followed your brother home."

"How-"

"I saw that Steve character, and I went in to tell him about how I still hadn't forgotten him dropping the hymn book, and in a roundabout way, we ended up here...that's all my self respect allows me to tell right now."

"Oh. Well, I'm fine, now."

"It was sort of spur of the moment, coming here," I explained, "I mean, we talked to that guy...that guy who got shot."

"Really? He...he probably wasn't very...polite, was he?"

"No. But he wasn't that rude. I think it was once we said we had talked to you that he thought we might be worth something in _his_ eyes."

"Yeah, not alot of people were worth much to him..." his voice was getting pretty quiet, and I was starting to think that maybe we shouldn't have come to see him so soon after he lost his friends.

"My grampy died last January," I said suddenly, "People kept on coming and seeing me and asking me ifI was okay, even one woman from our church came by and said right to me, 'Naomi, are you worrying about your Grampy's eternal fate?' that surprised me, and I just asked her, _'What_?' and she just sat down right close to my face and said, 'Naomi, are you in denial because you think your Grampy went to hell?' Mom heard that and made her leave. Over all, the visits just bugged me. I guess I kinda get it if you don't want to talk about your friends."

Pony was quiet. He nodded. "Yeah, not right yet. But maybe sometime. You talk to anyone about your Grampy yet?"

"Well..." This caught me off guard a little bit, "Sort of. But not one hundred percent. See, he was always the one to inluence me to sing and practice my music, so I've always kinda felt that if I really let him go, I'd stop wanting to sing,you know?"

"I've never wanted to sing, if that's what you mean."

"No, I mean-"

"Yeah, I know. I was just joking. Hey," his eyes suddenly lit up, "How did you like the NeilDiamond record?"

"I actually liked it alot, surprisingly, and I learned how to play a song on my guitar. The chords I'm playing aren't as complexed as the ones that were recorded, but it's considerably good, I think."

"Could you sing some of it?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't like singing when it's only in front of a few people."

"I only heard you sing once, though, and the second half of the song I wasn't even paying attention."

"If you want to hear me sing, you'll have to come to the Christmas concert that the church is holding."

"Which church?"

"Same one."

"Oh, no. I'm not goin' back there."

"Too bad, then."

"When is it?"

"December 4th."

"Early for a _Christmas_ concert, isn't it?"

"No, not too much. You'd be surprised how many other things are going on that time of year. It's the best time to have it, before everyone gets all busy."

"Maybe we'll come."

"Who's we?"

"Me and Soda and maybe Darry, probably. I don't know if it'll be safe to bring Steve or Two-Bit."

"Who's Darry?"

"My oldest brother."

"Ah. I see. I don't _have_ any brothers _or_ sisters! We should probably start home, Ash," I glanced at her, and she looked really tired, "But I'll look for you at that concert!"

"And if we aren't there?"

"I'll look for you at the next one!"

* * *

**December 4th 1967**

"Whoever made this dress should be shot,"I muttered to myself, trying desperatelyto pull it down to a decent length so that I wouldn't have to wear tights underit.

"Youlook so sweet." Momgushed, clasping her hands together, "Aren't you going to wear the hair bow, too?"

I wanted to die.

"Mom," I sighed, exasperatedly, "I'm sixteen. CanI just _not _?"

"Oh, of course dear," She looked at me as though I wascompletely out of my mind for not wanting to wear a frilly red lace dress and a'sweet' matching hairbow.

"Great. I'll be right out, Mom." I headed towards the bathroom.

"We're leaving in five minutes, Naomi!" Mom called over her shoulder as she walked out to the car.

It wasn't completely unusual for me to go into the bathroom right before my performance, because I had to untangle my hair about seven or eight times before it stayed. But this time, I had other ideas.

I pulled out the tiny pair of sissors that my dad used to trim his moustache. I hooked one sissor blade into a tiny hole near where the hem of mysleeve met the lace, and ripped it downwards. The whole circle of white lace ripped off easily...I guess it was cheaper than I thought.

Like I said, whoever made that dress should've been shot.

I felt a wave of regret, because I knew my mom would be real hacked off for it, but for a split second I made eye contact with myself in the mirror, and my shining yellow eyes seemed to tell me to go on.

About ten minutes later, my dress was lace free.

* * *

I had been sent into the choir room for preparation,but the only preparation going on back there was that I suddenly knew what it must be like to a mother. The second I got back there, a volunteer was practically ontop of me, telling me to help this little chorus singer get her hair in a bow and this little boy can't get his tie done and on and on and on...

The show was to start in five minutes.

"What are you still doing here?" Nancy, her name was, hissed, "You have to tell the children their cue-"

"I don't even know my _own_ cue!" I whispered frantically.

"Why would _you_ need a cue? A cue for _what_?"

"My performance!"

She looked as though I had told her that I had kidnapped the children's chorus and was shipping them off to Texas to work in acircus.

"_You're_ performing?"

"_Yes_!"

"I thougt you were another volunteer!"

"Would I wear _this_ if my mother thought no one would see me?"

She didn't answer right away, and I knew she agreed.

"What's your name?" She began to leaf through her papers, an expression of sheer panic on her face. Before I had a chance, the reverend called into the microphone,

"Ms. Naomi Sterling, ladies and gentlemen!"

I jumped and looked out into the church.

"Uh...that's me." I did a sort of half-curtsy to her, and walked slowly out into the church and stopped by the microphone. I smiled around at everyone, as usual,and it took menearly a minute to find Pony and Soda. They were accompanied by my 'good friend' Steve.

He saw me look, and picked up a hymn book and pretended to hit the head of the pleasant looking old man in front of him, and pretended to throw it across the room. I think he also saw my eyes widen in sudden fear, because he was laughing with Soda a second later.

I tried to put them out of my mind as I sang 'O Holy Night' which wasn't entirely difficult, because my vocal range went alot higher than that song. Still, I had one of those moments when I kept thinking, what would happen if I didn't hit the high note? I knew it was very well within my comfortable vocal range, but still.

I had to keep my eyes on the front few pews, because I knew if I looked at Steve he'd find some way to distract me, and if I looked at Soda I'd get nervous and shy, as had happened everytime I'd seen him, and if I looked at Pony in some way I'd end up looking at either Soda or Steve.

I did end up hitting that note, without any difficulty, and my pulse started to go down to normal again as I finished the song.

_Oh, night, Oh night devine._

I looked around with my long practiced end-performace smile at the applauding audience.

* * *

"Honey, that was terrific!"

You'd think that after so long the mother of a performer would learn some new ways to tell you that you did good. But no, not my mother.

"Thanks, Mom." I'd said it so many times that I actually sounded like I meant it.

"Hey, Naomi!"

I spun around to see Pony and Soda about two feet behind me. Luckily for me, Steve wasn't with them.

"Yeah?"

"That was good." Pony smiled, and I grinned thankfully back. What a great kid.

"Do _you_ play the piano, too?" Soda asked suspiciously.

"No, why?"

"Because half the people talked about themselves before they sang, and almost all of them said they could play the piano."

"Oh. Well, no, I can't. I can play the guitar, though."

"Really?" Soda's face lit up, "Like Eric Clapton and Jimi Hendrix?"

"Uh...Yeeeahh..." I said, even though I had barely ever heard of either of them.

"You don't know who they are, do you?"

"No."

"I guess they're supposed to be the two best guitar players in the world right now."

"Oh. I should know that, shouldn't I?"

He just smiled. God, he looked so cute when he smiled.

"Hey, next time you come to our house, you should bring your guitar!" Pony said.

"Maybe."I smiled, and I felt my Mom's hand on my shoulder.

"C'mon, Naomi, we have to go." She said in a very tight, high pitched voice.

"Yes, come on, Pony," Soda mocked Mom's tone of voice and placed his hand delicately on Ponyboy's shoulder, "We must be on our way too. Tata."

I widened my eyes and shook slightly from supressed laughter. I'd never heard anyone talk to my mom like that.

"I'll see you guys later," I said, not entirely looking forward to the ride home.


	8. Christmas Eve

Disclaimer: I don't think anyone would believe me even if I told them that I _did _own The Outsiders. All I own is Naomi and her guitar and my birthday.

**

* * *

**

**December 23 1967**

"Remember how we _breathe_, Naomi."

Shirley had beenreally intolerable for the last few weeks. I think it was Christmastime stress.

"My mom has been waiting outside for the last fifteen minutes."

Shirley looked up at me, her navy blue eyes flashing behind her dark, black rimmed glasses. I instantly regretted saying anything.

"Okay, then, we'll go as soon as I've shown you this song. I want you to sing it in February."

"About that...where exactly is the concert held?"

"Oklahoma City. February 12th. Be there."

"Uh...okay."

"Now, Naomi," Shirley sounded as though she were talking to a very young child, "Can you tell me something that is very important in order to make beautiful music?"

That made me feel even more stupid, because I couldn't.

"I guess...there's alot of things, aren't there? You need to be able to sing or play, first of all-"

"No," She snapped, making me jump, "That's not all. You need to feel the music."

I had to restrain myself from rolling my eyes. Shirley could get sorta weird like this sometimes.

"Okay, then."

"Do you think you can feel the music, Naomi?" I had to struggle not to laugh as I pictured what Soda might do if he were here right now. Probably imitate her or something.

"Uh...I guess it depends."

"I picked a song I think you can feel, Naomi," Shirley walked over to her piano, and played a quick scale, "Your Grandfather passed away awhile ago, correct?"

"Yes...nearly a year ago."

"I see. I picked a song that a friend of mine wrote. Anna Scott. I don't suppose you've heard of her," she said briskly, "Because she never seems to want to advertise her work. Pity, she does have talent."

"...okay..."

"Come sit down and read the words to this song," Shirley patted the piano bench beside her, "I think you might like it."

"Does it have an opera style range?"

"No, actually,"

"Good. I'm actually happy to hear that. Truth be told...I'm just glad."

"What were you going to say?"

"Huh?"

"You were going to say- 'Truth be told' something or other, but you didn't say it."

"I was going to say, Truth be told, I don't like opera so much anymore."

"Does your mother know?"

"No."

"Then I won't make you snig anymore opera. I'll just tell your mother we do. And you'll tell her the same. Agreed?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Now, are you going to look at the song or not?"

I shook my hair out of my eyes as I sat down. I had gotten it cut a day after my birthday, October 12th, but I was alreadyway past due for another trim.

"Now You've Gone And Left Me" I muttered, "That's...pretty, I guess.Why would you pick this one?"

"I think _you_ can _feel_ this song, Naomi."

"Okay...how?"

"Well, look here. Read the words."

I scanned the words quickly.

_I don't want to fall asleep anymore,  
Because I know when I wake up,  
You won't be here,  
And I can't take it much more,__  
_  
"That sounds like a...like someone who lost their _lover_," I said in digust, "Nottheir Grandfather."

"Well, then, make it for a Grandfather," She played the beginning on the piano a few times without letting me argue or question her, and continued, "Now sing."

_"I don't want to fall asleep anymore-" _

"Louder."

_""I don't want to fall asleep anymore-" _

"Slower."

_"I don't want to fall asleep anymore-" _

"With _feeling_, Naomi, _feeling_!"

"I don't know what you mean!" I tugged on a stray curl infront of my face.

"I want you to mean it, Naomi. Have you ever dreaded the days where you missed your Grandfather?"

"Sometimes."

"Then say it. Really mean it. _Tell_ him you wish he were still with you."

"And the rest?"

"The same. Sing it like you mean it."

"What if I _don't_ mean it?"

"Then we'll find a different song."

"Not every musician means everything they sing."

"Yes, some of them do sing things they don't mean. That's why _they_ are proffesionals and _you_ are here taking lessons from an old bat. With feeling, now."

_"I don't want to fall asleep anymore-" _

"Good, continue,"

_"Because I know when I wake up,"_

"Continue,"

_"You won't be here,"_

"Don't miss that beat, Miss Sterling,"

_"And I can't take it much more," _

"Good Job. I like how you sang with feeling. This will be a winner for the concert."

"Thanks." I smiled, but I didn't really mean it, because when I had to sing that song, it reopened old wounds that I'd worked really hard to heal. Maybe Shirley sensed this, because she placed her thin, claw like hand on my shoulder.

"I think we're done for this week, Naomi."

"See you Monday."

"Merry Christmas."

"You too."

* * *

**December 24th, 1967 7:00 PM**

"I'm going to Ashley's!" I yelled out the front door, "I'll be back in two hours!"

"Watch the traffic!"

I slammed the door before either of my parents could notice I had my guitar with me. I was actually going to Ashley's, we just weren't staying there. I was going to follow up on the promise that Pony had forced me to make about a week before and take my guitar when I went to visit.

"So then," Ashley was saying as we walked along later, "Mom was pretty sure she left the turkey at the supermarket, because it was on her receit but she didn't have it, and then we remembered that Bear had gotten into the car when we first got home," Bear was Ashley's huge dog, hence what they called him,"And we went outside into the dog house, and there was the turkey. We have to get a new one now, because Bear ate half the old one..."

"This guitar is killing me," I switched hands again, "Remind me to make Pony feel bad for making me bring it."

"You should've just left it home."

"I promised."

"Still, though."

"It would've been mean not to bring it."

"Naomi, if that kid asked you to eat dirt you'd do it."

"He'sa real sweet kid, Ash."

"If by sweet you mean manipulative, then sure."

"C'mon, in the long run you'd eat the dirt too."

"No, not if Pony asked me too. Maybe I would if Sodapop asked me to."

I probably spent alot of time afterwards wishing I hadn't seen her smile at me like that right then. It gave me the same feeling as when in grade two Madisyn Murphy got the singing solo in our school concert because the music teacher liked her more than she liked me. Or when my cousins all had my Grampy's birthday cake without me. It was sort of the hopeless feeling that you get when someone takes something important away from you.

"It's 'cause we're such pansies," I joked, "Anyone can get us to do anything. C'mon, I have to get home by nine and it's already seven thirty five." Ashley started to protest, but I never heard what she said. I really didn't want to hear it.

The full impact set in a few minutes later.

Oh my gosh. Ashley likes Sodapop.

I could see their house down the street. It looked really welcoming. Looking back now, I still find it hard to believe I didn't say, "Me too." To Ashley's comment.

"Hi!" Ashley said brightly as we went inside. I smiled half-heartedly. Somehow, it was going to be really weird to be in the same room as Ash and Soda now. I tugged on the curl dangling in my eye. It was a good stress reliever. That was the only thing keeping me from cutting it off.

"You brought your guitar!" Pony smiled brightly.

"I promised, didn't I? Regardless of what Ashley said to me-"

Ashley elbowed me in the ribs.

"I'm sorry, Ash, am I making you look bad? Or feel umcomfortable?"

Ashley was making direct eye contact with me, and I casually stole a glance over my shoudler into a tiny mirror behind the door. Yup...my eyes were almost the color of a dandelion. I smiled my infamous (and long forgotten) cocky half-smile that was my way of laughing without laughing. Ashley's face softened when she realized I was trying to embarass her rather than destroy her.

"Can you play something?" Pony's eyes were lit up like a kid on Christmas, which would be about accurate.

"Sure, just let me get in the door," I joked, hanging my coat on the door handle.

"Sorry," He ran off into the other room.

"Never seen the kid so full of it," Ashley breathed into my ear.

I just laughed and pulled my guitar out of it's case.

"Tuff guitar," a voice sounded behind me, and I knew it was Soda before I really knew it was Soda, "Can I hold it?"

"Sure." I handed it to him, and he looked more uncomfortable with it than my Mom when she tried to play it.

"What do I do?"

"Put one hand here, and the other here..."

"Ooooooh...okay." He handed the guitar back to me and walked into the room where everyone else was.

"I'd ask if I could hold the guitar too," Steve said loudly, "But Naomi wouldn't want me to drop it!"

"That's mostly true, yes." I said, settling down between Ashley and Sodapop. Hey, I was uncomfortable with the situation, so Ashley should be too.

"You're gonna poke me in the eye with that," Ashley slapped the head of the guitar.

"You're gonna hurt the guitar," I teased, "And you're acting like a little girl!"

"I _am_ a little girl." Ashley replied in a high pitched voice.

"Ever since the operation."I said in the same voice as Ashley.

"Can you play something, Naomi?" Pony asked _again_.

"Okay, I'll play something," I silently weighed my options of what to play. I decided to go with Silent Night, since it was the easiest. I looked over at Pony for a second, who was to the right of Soda, because I was going to tell him what I was going to play, and I saw Soda looking back at me for a second, and I got one of those feelings like something really heavy dropped from my throat tomy stomach really fast. I knew I was flushing bright red, so I quickly turned my head down and gathered all my hair in a pony tail and pulled the elastic band over it. Evidently, I left out the tiny curl that I liked to pull on.

"Nice hair," snickered Ashley, "It looks like a poodle's stuck in your hair."

"Niiiiiice doggie," Soda started petting the back of my hair, "Niiiice...IT BIT ME!"

I slapped his hand away from my head. Maybe I shouldn't have put my hair up, I silently told myself.

"I'm gonna play silent night," I said, and quickly ran through it.

"Can you show me how to play it?" Pony asked shyly.

"Sure, c'mere." He walked slowly, as though he thought the guitar might bite him.

"Hold it like this," I held out the guitar, and he held it right the first time.

"See," turned to Soda, "_This_ is how it's done."

Everyone laughed except Ashley.

"Aww, c'mon, Nay," She said, in a sickeningly sweet voice, "That's mean."

There was silence for a second.

"Uh...I was joking. We were just doing that a second ago, remember? The poodle in my head?" I hinted quietly.

No one said anything. We were all kinda uncomfortable for Ashley.

"So," I said, louder than I had to, "The first note is E. This right here. Yeah, And the next one is F, that's open. Right on. Now C is up here..."

After about twenty minutes, Pony could nearly play the song. He was about to try it again when Soda interupted him.

"C'mon, Pony, I want a turn!"

Pony just smiled and handed the guitar over. I don't know _how_ that kid can be so tolerant.

"What's the first note again?"

"E. It's the second fret, on this string-"

"What string?"

"Here-" I put his hand on the fret, "This. Now play that. Good, that's the first note. Now for the second note. "

* * *

It was 9:05 by the time Soda decided to call it quits on the guitar. Ashley was inthe worst mood I'd ever seen her in. 

"We gotta go now," I smiled around, "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, guys," Ashley mumbled. I never thought I'd live to see the day where Ashley and I would both like the same guy. It was so quiet going down the steps that I could hear every creak and groan. My stomach felt as though I was going to be sick, just like I did every time I thought a friend might be mad at me.

"Naomi?"

I jumped and spun around. It was so quiet that a voice had scared me half to death.

"Yeah?"

"Could you come here?"

I squinted into the darkness when I was unable to identify the voice.

"Who is it?"

"Me."

"I can't tell who it is when you're whispering!"

"It's Sodapop!"

Just another thing to add to my nerves.

"Yeah?" I walked back up the creaking steps.

"What's with Ashley?"

"She's just a little upset. She gets like that sometimes."

"She'll be okay, won't she?"

The trace of concern in his voice made me get that feeling again where a weight drops into your stomach, but this time it was a bad feeling. Soda must like Ashley back. I tried to imagine what it would be like if they started going out, but stopped myself. Too terrible to imagine.

"She'll be fine." I sat up on the railing, but when it started to squeak, I jumped off again. I was about two feet from Soda now and I felt like hitting him for liking Ashley.

"She seems kinda tempermental sometimes."

"She can be."

"I mean, she's an okay girl and all that, you know. I just wondered if maybe something I said offended her or something-"

"No, she's offeneded because of how I told her I was just joking."

"Oh. I guess that makes sense."

Everything was silent. It was a little awkward, but happy for me because now I knew that Soda didn't like Ashley in that way.

"You did a real good job singing at that concert."

"Thanks."

"You have a real nice voice."

"Thank you." I smiled kindly. I meant it.

"You're real pretty, too."

Now I was sure I might pass out.

"Shut up."

"No, I mean it."

"What am I supposed to say to that?"

"You don't _have_ to say something."

"So I can stand here and smile?"

"Just stand there and look pretty."

I went to hit him, but he jumped away, laughing.

"When's your next concert?"

"February 12th."

"Where?"

"In Oklahoma City."

"Maybe we'll be there."

"It's a far way."

"Hey, come on. We want to support you."

I tapped my heel against the house. There was a loose shingle that was serving the same purpose as the curl that hung infront of my eyes. It relieved stress, and I was a bundle of nerves.

"You must be cold." I commented, since Soda wasn't even wearing a coat.

"No, not a lot. If I get too cold, I can just go inside."

"Hm. I didn't mean I don't want you at the concert."

"I know."

"I just thought you might not want to travel all the way to Oklahoma City to see a concert."

"I would."

"If you want to go, by all means-"

"I want to go."

I sort of half-smiled, and looked down at my feet, and then back up at Soda. He smiled, too. Then, without warning, he leaned over and kissed me. I was definately surprised. And when I say surprised, I mean happier than I'd ever been. About two seconds later, I heard a snarling voice that I didn't recognize.

"Well, isn't this beautiful?"

I looked up to see who the stranger was. It was Ashley. I realized I didn't recognize her voice because I'd never seen her so angry. She grabbed my guitar from the top stair where she was standing, and threw it down onto the ground.

"You little whore," He spat at me, and ran off down the street. There was silence.

"I don't like to judge people," Soda said, finally, "But that girl is off her rocker."

"My guitar." I said hoarsely, running down the stairs and opening the case. There was a hairline crack down the middle of the body.

"Is it fixable?"

I shrugged my shoulders, biting my lip and trying my hardest not to cry.

"I should go home," I said in the steadiest voice I could manage.

"Okay. Do you want a drive?"

"No, I have to walk."

"Okay. Have a good Christmas."

"That's not likely, but I'll try."Soda pulled me into a hug, and it was nearly impossible not to break down and bawl over my guitar. It seems stupid to cry overan instrument, when it's so replaceable, but I really loved that guitar. I only kept my cool incase I met Ashley on the way home. I wasn't upset anymore about her, I was angry. I'd patched things up with Daph and Emilie, since I'd been acting normal again, and I knew that as soon as I got home I'd call them and get them on my side.

I spent the whole walk home trying to make myself feel better, and by the time I actually got home, I felt really happy and light spirited. Hey, it _was_ Christmas, I _had_ just gotten rid of Ashley, who really _was_ starting to get annoying, and best of all - I actually kissed Sodapop Curtis. So, overall, I was feeling fine, until Mom opened the door.

"It's 9:45," She growled, "And I _know_ you _weren't_ at Ashley's."


	9. There's Someone Else

The text on this computer is tiny and is truly annoying.

* * *

_Last Chapter:_

_"It's 9:45," She growled, "And I know you weren't at Ashley's."  
_

"How would you find out something like that?"

"Ashley came by _looking_ for you."

"That's impossible, she was with me."

"I guess she wasn't, then."

It was thenI realized how smart Ashley was. I also realized how much I'd miss her if we were fighting, and how it was my fault, and I knew I should do something. I really didn't want to fight with one of my best friends.

"Yeah, I was at her house, but we went out for a walk and we got into an arguement. She's really, really good at this stuff, Mom. She's trying to get revenge on me."

"She's going to have to tell me that herself."

I started to panic. She probably would never talk to me again.

Oh my God, what had I done?

I was being stupid. I should have valued my life long friend over things like boys and guitars. I picked up the phone and dialed Ashley's number. Her mother answered.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is Ashley home?"

"Yes she is, just a second." I could hear her calling for Ashley, and Ashley's disgruntled voice.

"Who is it, Mom?"

"It's Naomi."

"She's probably just calling to shove it in my face how much her guitar will cost to fix."

"What happened to her guitar, honey?"

"She dropped it and blamed it one me."

This made me mad, but I let it go. It was sort of my fault that she threw it, anyway.

"Just talk to her."

"Okay, fine. Hello?"

"Hi." I suddenly couldn't remember what I had planned to say.

"What do you want?"

"I...I'm sorry."

She laughed. "You think that fixes everything?"

"Come on, Ashley," I twisted the phone cord around my finger, "This is stupid. _I_ was stupid. I swear I'll make it up to you."

"You're right you were stupid."

"Ashley, listen to me-"

"Did you _like_ making me look stupid?"

"No," I sounded distant and whiny, and I hated myself for letting her walk on me like this,"Come on, Ashley, we were just kidding around. You were being a pansy." And then I wished I hadn't said that. Ashley was quiet for a second.

"Yeah, I guess I was, wasn't I?"

I let out a huge breath of relief.

"I'm really sorry, Ash, I swear it'll never happen again, I promise."

"I know it won't, Naomi, you wouldn't do that."

"Will you forgive me?"

"Yeah, but you have to do some things."

"Anything."

"Firstly, you can't be with Soda in that way."

"I already assumed that."

"And you have to help me look normal again, because I think I made a complete idiot of myself."

"I will. I promise."

"I guess that's all."

"Okay," I let the phone cord loosen around my finger, which was turning purple, "That's simple. But I need you to do something for me."

"Yeah?"

"You need to tell my mom about how you came by here and pretended you hadn't seen me because you were mad about that argument we had on the walk we took, okay?"

Ashley made a sort of squeak, "God, I'm sorry about that, I was mad!"

"That's okay, you just have to tell Mom."

"Yeah, I will."

Mom looked happier a few minutes later.

"You kids," she muttered, smiling, "Always getting yourselves into something."

I felt even more light hearted than before that evening. Ashley and I were friends again, and Christmas was in two hours! What had been bugging me again?

That happened alot, I'd be happy and I couldn't remember what had been bugging me a few minutes earlier.

Oh yeah. The next time I see Soda. I'd have to make up some sort of excuse, like...I already had a boyfriend? I was gonna have to sleep on this. I was a _little_ upset about Ashley forbidding me to ever be with Soda, but I'd get over it. I always did.

At least, that's what I was going to keep telling myself.

* * *

**Christmas Day **

"Is it fixable?" Once she'd cooled down, Ashley felt really bad about my guitar.

"It's fine," I assured her, "It didn't even crack all the way through. It has a little different sound, but it's fine."

"You seem scared."

"I _am_ scared."

"Why?"

"Come _on_, Ashley, you know."

"You're scared to face Soda?"

"_Yes_."

"You have _no_ confidence."

"I just wish I didn't have to do this. I mean, it's _Christmas_. It's going toruin his day."

"Why would you say that?"

"Pony told us that he just had a girlfriend who hurt him real bad. Do you seriously think it's the best thing that I do this now?"

"Better now than later."

Really, though, I would have prefered never. It was quiet until we got to the Curtis's. I was sort of greatful for that.

"Have a good Christmas so far?" Pony asked as he opened the door.

"Yeah, it's been great!" Ashley sounded so happy and bubbly that I wasn't sure she remembered how I was feeling at the time, "Hows yours?"

"Good. Naomi, Soda wanted to talk to you." I felt sick. I looked at Ashley, an expression of horror on my face.

"Okay, let's go see Soda, Nay." Ashley took my arm and lead me into the other room.

"He said Naomi alone," Pony called after us, but Ashley only tightened her grip on my arm. It gave me some comfort that she was with me, never mind that she was the reason I had to do this.

"Hi, Merry Christmas," Ashley said happily, as we went into the room. Soda looked up and smiled. He looked so happy that I almost just turned and ran out of the house.

"Hi, guys."

I casually leaned closer to Ashley. It seemed to offer me protection.

"Can I talk to you, Naomi?"

"Sure."

Ashley made no move to leave, and I was happy.

"Uh...could...could you give us a second, Ashley?"

"Is it that important?"

"Well...I guess..."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

I felt helpless as she left the room. I felt like I was going to be sick.

"Listen-" we both said at the same time, and both fell silent.

"Go ahead," I said, pulling on the curl infront of my eye harder than ever.

"No, you go ahead."

"I was going to say..." I really had no idea what I was going to say, "Last night was a mistake. It shouldn't have happened," I was staring at my shoes, noticing how they weren't very white anymore, "I mean..."

"Yeah?" I noticed Sodapop sounded like he might start crying. That made two of us.

"I guess...there's..." I trailed off again, not sure what to say.

"There's someone else?"

"Yeah."I bit my bottom lip.

"Okay." I had expected him to get upset or yell or something, but he just sounded defeated.

"I'm sorry-"

"It's not your fault."His tone of voice really made me want to cry. It was so sad and defeated.

"I'm really sorry."

"Are you going to tell me about this guy?"

I froze. I hadn't thought of any follow-up answers.

"Uh...his name is Jon. He takes singing from the same teacher as me." I said quickly, naming a random person from music lessons.

"You guys are probably happy together."

"We're not together."

"Oh." He was silent for a second, "Then I shouldn't feel like I did anything wrong?"

"No. It wasn't wrong. It was a mistake."

I walked from the room, and found Ashley with her ear pressed against the door. As soon as the door was closed, I just started crying. Ashley hugged me.

"You handled it well."

I wished I hadn't had to handle it at all.

* * *

**December 30 1967**

"Now, I want you all to think long and hard about this," Shirley was stepping around all of us sitting on the floor for our group lesson. We had it twice a year - two hours where all the voice students got together to do music theory and things like that, "What is your ultimate goal in singing?"

That was easy for me. To get to London. I wrote that down, but then I stopped. Did I really want to? Yes. I did. I was back to my old plan. I looked around, and I couldn't help but noticing Jon. He wasn't entirely bad looking, and he was genuinely a nice guy. But I couldn't imagine myself prefering him over Soda.

"That's all for today," Shirley called, "Hand in your papers here. I'd like to see these goals." I got up, grabbed my coat, and ran outside, only to be met by Ashley and Sodapop.

"Hey, Naomi!"

"Hey, Ash. Hi, Soda."

"Hi."

"We came to meet Jon," Ashley whispered, "Is he here?"

"No, I think he already left," I lied. Unfortunately, he came out right behind me. I could have gotten away with it, if he didn't have his name onhis coat sleeve.

"Hey, Jon!" Soda called, and I turned beet red, "Hi!"

"Hi." Jon looked confused, "Do I know you?"

"No, I just know Naomi. I think I heard about you from her once or something. I just recognize your name."

"Really?" Jon's eager green eyes lit up, "Nice to meet you."

"I'm Ashley," Ashley shook his hand.

"Wow," Jon ran his thin hand through his long dark hair, "It's nice to meet both of you. Bye!"

"You know," Soda said, once he was gone, "I think the guy likes you."

"Really?" I tried my best to sound hopeful, but it was hard when I didn't want anything to do with Jon.

"Yeah." Soda sounded distant for a second. I bit my lip.

"We should go," Ashley said suddenly, "I'll see you later, Naomi."

"Bye."

I was about to walk away, when Shirley came running after me.

"Naomi! Wait a second! I have something for you!" I turned around, and she handed me a few sheets of paper.

"These are for an Artsschool in London. I would have given them to you sooner had I know about your ambition."

"That's real nice of you, but I don't know that I'll get accepted."

"Ah," Shirley held up a finger, "That's where you're wrong. They have a representative coming over to the concert in February. You do good," Shirley leaned close to me, "And you're in."

I smiled. "Sure, I'll fill these out when I get home."

"Right on."

I strode off to the car. I would have to work extra hard for the concert in February. Then I caught myself wondering if Soda still wanted to go. Then to what would happen if Jon went to...this 'London Academy of Performing Arts' too. _Then_, I started to wonder if Soda still missed me...or had he already moved on?

Namely, to my best friend?


	10. Guess Who?

I just finished writing this chapter out and decided to put it on, despite the fact that I just updated two or three hours ago.

* * *

I had barely gotten into Shirley's room for my lesson the next Monday when, low and behold, Jon met me at the door. 

"Hi, Naomi, is your lesson next?"

"Yeah, Jon, it is." I knew I sounded exasperated and annoyed, but I was too exasperated and annoyed to care.

"I'm just waiting for Shirley to get me some papers, and then, since I just barely started lessons here a few weeks ago, she's letting me sit in on a few classes this afternoon."

"I guess mine is one of them, huh?"

"I guess so."

Suddenly, a thought occurred to me.

"What kind of papers is Shirley getting for you?"

"Application forms for an art school."

I felt my pulse quicken sickeningly.

"What...What school?"

" London Academy of Performing Arts."

"No way..." I tried to mask the horror in my voice, "I'm applying there too."

"Is part of your application going to be singing in the concert in February?"

"Yeah, it is."

"Me too. Do you have a song yet?"

"Yeah."

"I don't," Jon smiled superiorly, "I normally don't pick my song until the weekend before."

I found myself wondering why I had to lie and tell Soda that I liked _this_ headstrong pansy. Why couldn't the name of a normal person have popped into my head just then?

"That's real nice, Jon. I'm just going...going to set up."

"Set up?" Jon crinkled his dark eyebrows in confusion, "You're a singer. What do you have to set up?"

"I meant to say warm up," I lied, pushing gently past him, "I have to do my scales." I stood by the piano and started with the lowest note I could manage, and went up to the very highest, and back down to the lowest.

"Wow," Jon breathed, "You have an _amazing_ vocal range."

"That's nice of you, Jon. I sing opera a lot."

"I don't think that London Academy offers opera-"

"Of course it does, Mr. Harris," I was relieved to hear Shirley's voice, "And you would be surprised to hear how very conceited you sound when you say ' London Academy' when it is simply referred to as LAPA. Remember, my students have class-"

"Not sass," Muttered Jon, walking over to a bench and sitting down.

"From the top of your concert piece, Naomi, we have a lot of catching up to do in 45 minutes." She glared at Jon.

_"I don't want to fall asleep anymore-" _

Shirley abruptly stopped and turned to face me.

"What did we discuss, Mss Sterling?"

"Feeling, "I muttered.

"Try again."

_I don't want to fall asleep anymore-"  
Because I know when I wake up,  
You won't be here,  
And I can't take it much more," _

"Very good. We'll continue, then." While she looked away, I wiped my eyes on the back of my hand. I got teary every time I sang this song, and I really didn't know how I was going to perform it. Shirley played the next little bit on the piano, and then asked me to sing it with her. I cleared my throat and tied my hair back, ignoring the painful jabs my memory was making.

_"Niiiiiice doggie," Soda started petting the back of my hair, "Niiiice...IT BIT ME!"_

I absent mindedly ran my hand over the back of my ponytail.

"You missed coming in, Miss Sterling."

"Sorry, I was waiting another bar to come in. I don't know why."

"That's alright. Try again. One, Two."

_"And I depended on you,  
And you relied on me,  
And now you've gone and left me,  
It's blinded me, I just can't see,"_

My voice cracked a little when I said the last line. This song was like a constant reminder of how much I suffered.

_"Now you've gone and left me,  
I wish you could've stayed just one more day,  
Now you've gone and left me,  
Oh, tell me,  
Why did God have to take you away?"_

"Stop," instructed Shirley, "I'm not sure I like the transition."

So I spent the last half of my lesson trying to get the notes right on.

I'm Shirley's last student on Mondays, so she has to lock the building and go home to feed her kids, which left me and Jon sitting on the front steps, waiting for our rides home.

"Uh...Naomi?"

"Yeah?" I scooted down one stone step, trying to increase the tiny space between Jon and myself. I felt a little uncomfortable when he sat two feet behind me when he could be sitting anywhere else on the staircase.

"Do you...you know...want to...get together some time?"

I knew it took a lot of guts for him to say that, so I smiled kindly. "Sure, Jon. When?"

"Uh..I was thinking next Friday."

"Okay, I'm free then. Where were you thinking?"

"Um...I thought you'd say no, so I never thought that far ahead."

"How about we just go to the movies."

"Sure."

"Good. I'll meet you at the Nightly Double around six thirty?"

"Okay."

"Bye." I walked over to my Mom's car, which had just pulled into the driveway.

I was in an okay mood until I got home. As if on a timer, the phone rang.

"Hello?" I twisted the thick cord around my middle and index finger.

"Hi, is this Naomi?"

"Yeah, is this Ashley?"

"Yeah, you'll never guess what happened!"

"What happened?"

"I'm going on a date on Friday!" She said in a sing-song voice.

"Me too," I said, "I'm going with _Jon_. Maybe we'll see you guys there..._hopefully_ we'll see you guys there, because I couldn't stand to be alone with that guy for too long. Uh...who exactly are you going with, anyway?"

Ashley giggled, and I felt the blow coming a second in advance.

"Sodapop!"

I dropped the phone.


	11. Fighting Back Tears

I tend to get angry at characters like Ashley too. Although in her defence, I can say that she doesn't think Naomi actually likes Soda in that way. She's sorta unintelligent.

* * *

"Ashley! Over here!" I waved my hand wildly, begging to God she'd see me. If I had to spend one more second alone with Jon, I'd go crazy and strangle him. It wasn't as though I was happy that Ashley was here with Sodapop and I was here with Jon, but I just wanted the company. I had gotten used to the fact, after I finished playing Solitary Man over and over and over and over... 

"Hi!" Ashley smiled, andI knew she was having a blast. And the movie didn't even start yet. She looked really pretty, probably because she had curled her hair. It looked really good on her.

"You curled your hair!" I pretended to act surprised, although really I wasn't, "Now who has a poodle in their head?"

"You still have way more hair than me!"

"At least Naomi's doesn't have rabies," Soda joked, dodging Ashley's slap. I don't know if she meant to swing that hard, but if she had hit him, it would have lefta hand mark on his arm.

"Let's just go find seats before this whole place fills up," I suggested, letting Soda and Jon go ahead of Ashley and I.

"What?" she whispered, and I could tell I was mildly annoying her.

"I've only been taking music from Shirley for a few weeks," Jon was saying loudly, "But I've really been studying it for longer..."

"Help me," I mouthed, nodding my head towards Jon.

"I'll try," she replied.

I tried to follow the movie. I really did. But it was hard when Ash and Soda were laughing and whispering about something I didn't know. I nudged Ashley gently, and nodded towards Jon's hand. It seemed to inch about a centimeter closer to mine every thirty seconds or so.

"Hey, Jon," Ashley said, standing up, "You want to come with me to get a refill?" She shook her empty Coke, "I didn't catch the last part of the story you were telling, and I'd love to hear it."

"Sure," Jon jumped up, his eyes gleaming, "There was this really bad piano with a really flat key on it that should have been natural, but when the organist started to play it..." I watched as they disappeared.

"Your date is crazy." Soda said, as soon as they were gone.

"Your date is my best friend." I smiled sweetly.

"It's not my fault," he looked around, and lowered his voice, "She won't stop hanging around me!"

I laughed, and bit my lip.

"She's really nice and all," He continued, "But I keep thinking about how she called you a whore and broke your guitar-"

"It's not broken, it just has a tiny dent in it," I insisted, "And we've sorted everything out."

"There's something you aren't telling me."

"What?"

"First thing you're saying you like this Jon guy, but now it seems like you hate him."

"I do hate him, now. He was...alot different...when I first met him."

"Can you answer a question for me?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Why is Ashley making you pretend to want to go out with Jon?"

I felt like I'd swallowed something icy cold.

"She's not making me do anything-"

"I can tell she is, Naomi, anyone could tell that she is."

"You're just being self-confident."

"Maybe I am," he said, laughing, "But I'm not giving up _that_ easily."

I smiled slightly, and chuckled with my mouth closed. I wasn't about to show it, but _that_ made my day.

* * *

**January 6th 1968**

"Naomi, have you ever felt like crying about your Grampy but didn't?"

"Yeah...loads of times."

"Please, I _need_ you to work with me here. Try it one more time."

I sighed and stood up straight.

_"I wish that I could cry,  
But I'd never stop even if I could,"  
I wish I could shed tears over you,  
No one understands,  
They all think I should," _

"Come on, this isn't what we discussed," Shirley shook her head, and looked me straight in the eye, "I need you to co operate, or we'll never get through this."

"Did you ever think maybe it's a sensitive subject for me?" I blurted out, before I could stop myself.

"There are plenty enough sensitive subjects, Naomi," Shirley said, her voice softening, "But I really think that if you can touch base with this song, you'll have a winner. And you might shed a few tears, but you'll feel better after. Ready to try again?"

I nodded meekly and shook my head to get the curls out of my eyes.

_"I wish that I could cry,  
But I'd never stop even if I could,"  
I wish I could shed tears over you,  
No one understands,  
They all think I should," _

Beautiful," Shirley called over the piano, "Keep going!"

"_Because now you've gone and left me,  
Left me all alone,  
Nobody understands the way you do,  
I know that now,  
You're finally home,_

But now you've gone and left me,  
Left me without you,  
What good are angels,  
White and pure,  
if there's nothing they can do?" 

"That was excellent," Shirley's eyes gleamed through her thick rimmed glasses, "It's a real-"

"I thought it was great, too."I cringed as I heard the voice. It was Jon.

"Hi, Jon." I managed, smiling.

"What would you like, Mr. Harris?"

"I just came to give back the application forms," He said, looking directly at me, a cocky grin plastered on his face.I felt bad for the guy. He wasn't half bad looking, and he was pretty nice. But he wasn't the type of guy I'd ever consider going out with, and somehow, I seemed to be the type of girl he _would_ consider going out with. That made me shudder to think of it.

"That reminds me," Shirley said, "I was talking with representatives from LAPA. They're going to look out for the two of you. That means feeling." She nodded to me, "And class, not sass, " She nodded to Jon, "If you can keep that straight, you're on your way to London."

Just the thought sent shivers of excitement down my spine. I could be in London at this timein two months.

* * *

"Sooo...do you still like him? I mean, in that way?" 

"Yeah, but I think he's mad at me."

I breathed in silently. Ashley and Soda had a huge argument, and, according to Ashley, she started it, and it wasn't even about anything.

"Have you heard from Hannah yet?"

"No, have you?"

"No, I thought she would have called by now. Maybe there's been a problem with phone lines or something."

"She's been gone since September. Do you think somethings wrong?"

"I don't know. How hard would it be to find someone's phone number in Oklahoma City?"

"I don't know. Listen, I have to go now. Can I call you later or something?"

"Yeah, sure...wait, no, we're going to my grandmothers. I'll talk to you at school tomorrow."

"Bye."

"Bye." I hung up the phone and slumped against the wall. I wasn't going to my grandmothers,I was sitting home all night. But right now I just didn't feel like talking to Ashley...she was the origin of my misery.


	12. You Really Want To Go?

I had roughly a month before my big concert, and I was already nervous. I knew that if I didn't sing well, it might be awhile before I got another chance to get to England. I had been telling Daphne and Emilie about how nervous I was, and eventually they got tired of listening to me. So I called Ashley, to see what she had to say.

"Hello?"

I got Ashley's mom. That was wierd, considering that Ashley always answers the phone unless she's not home or sick.

"Hi, would Ashley be around?"

"Is this Naomi?"

"Yeah, it is."

"She said she was at your house." There was a trace of concern in her voice.

"How long ago did she leave?"

"About an hour ago." Ashley's house is about ten minutes from mine.

"Oooh...I forgot. I was supposed to meet her at the school. I hope she didn't leave yet..."

"Oh, good. Well, she should be home soon. Tell her to call me when you find her."

"I will. Bye."

Once again, my ability to lie with ease has helped me. But what Ashley's mother didn't know was that I wasn't going to the school. And what she didn't know couldn't hurt her.

* * *

"Hey, Pony,"I smiled, my eyes gleaming a brilliant yellow for having found Ashley, "Is Ashley here?" 

"Yeah, come in," he walked into the front room, where, low and behold I found Ashley.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, almost accusingly.

"Your Mom wants you to call her."

"Did she call you?"

"No, _I_ tried to _call_ you, but you weren't home."

"What did you say?"

"Don't worry, I covered up for you. Same as you did that one time...after I asked you to do so."

"I was returning the favor." She half smiled and cocked her head to the side.

Sodapop, who'd been in the room for the last twenty seconds, looked completely lost on our conversation.

"You know, Ashley, when I said I'd do that for you, I thought we were both going to lay off...you know, for one another."

Ashley's eyes hardened.

"I didn't think the favor was harming _you_ in any way."

"But I was really nervousbefore..." My eyes adverted to Soda, then back to Ashley,"Remember how later on I wished I didn't have to?"

"I thought you were concerned for the feelings of the...others involved."

Now I realized why she was doing all this. She thought I didn't care if she did. Come to think of it...she thought I'd be happy for her, or at least, so said our conversations. It all fit now. Maybe if she knew I did care...no. I wasn't sure, but I didn't want anyone mad at me. Hell, I wouldn't be able to tell Jon to leaveme alone without feeling guilty.

"I was, Ash, you know, but...I thought you would be concerned too.. You know, I thought you'd...wait?"

"Oooh..." An expression of understanding crossed Ashley's face, "Should I?"

"I'd say it's the best way to go."

"Yeah, I agree with Naomi." Soda said, nodding his head.

"What?" Ashley snapped her head around. I knew she didn't want him to understand the conversation any more than I did.

"I don't know, I have no clue what either of you are talking about." He smiled and leaned back nonchalantly.

I looked at Ashley, relief washing over me. She seemed to feel the same.

"Anyway, I was calling you to tell you how nervous I am about the concert."

"A month in advance...Naomi, you're in for a rough month."

"It's my chance to get to London, Ash, I'm not taking it lightly."

"Why would you want to go to London?" Soda asked, scrunching up his face in disgust.

"Because I want to be a singer."

"Why can't you be a singer in Tulsa?"

"There'sareally good school in London where I can sing and study my normal school work. We sign up for the time period where we can study our music...during the day or the evening, whenever it suits us."

"When'd you sign up for, Naomi?" Ashley said, pulling her long brown hair into a bun on top of her head and letting it fall down.

"I had to sign up for the evening, from nine till ten. It's because Mom doesn't want me to interupt my school work and she wants me to have all my homework done before I sing," I tugged the curl in front of my face, "And so far, I'm the only one who signed up for that time period."

"So you want to leave Tulsa?" Soda asked, avacant look on his face.

"It's not that I want to leave Tulsa, it's just that I really want to go to England."

"How long would you be staying in England?"

"As long as I can get work there singing."

"Is that a long time?"

"Who knows?"

"I'm going to be right back," Ashley said, "I'm going to call my Mom."

"Yeah, it's fine if you want to use our phone," Soda called after her, "Yeah, you're welcome." There was silence for a few seconds. I really wished Ashley hadn't left the room.

"So...How're things with Jon?"

I half-smirked and put my hand up to my head. This had been going on for the last week. First Soda had just flat out asked me out. I don't think he was expecting yes for an answer, somehow, because he kept laughing. I'd said that I was going to try to fix things up with Jon. Since then, he'd wait until Ashley was gone from the room until he'd ask me if I'd thought about the offer yet. That's another thing he picked up on, he was pretty sure that Ashley was the reason I wouldn't go out with him. Which she was, but I wasn't going to say that.

"Great, great, they're fine."

"When's your next lesson with Jon?"

"Tonight." Jon had been sitting in on practically _every_ lesson I went to lately.

"That's very cozy sounding."

"Especially with my music teacher there."

"So...nothing new on that offer yet?"

"What offer?" Ashley appeared in the doorway, a questioning look plastered on her face.

"The offer for me to go to London," I said quickly, "It's the same. If I sing good, I go. If not, I don't."

"So if I can make you sing bad?" Soda asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Then I will never speak to you again?" I put on a face like the one he was giving me.

"You really want to go that bad, huh?" He asked in the same quiet, defeated voice that he'd used when I'd told him that kissing him had been a mistake.

Which brought me back to that subject.

It wasn't my fault at all. I mean, I sure wasn't going to try and kiss him. It just happened. If I could turn back time, I would, but I can't, so I won't. I had been stuck between two people, a guy and a friend, and I chose my friend. It was the right thing to do.

So why did I feel so terrible?

Also, I somehow think that if I _could_ turn back time to Christmas Eve...the only thing I'd do differently would be to keep my guitar closer to me so that Ashley couldn't throw it.

* * *

"Christy!" Ashley shuffled across the icy street to the dark haired girl about to get in a car, "How are you?" 

I could see the girl grinning. I guess she was happy to see Ashley, but as for me, I'd never met this Christy girl in my life. We'd been walking to my lesson, since my mom was sick in bed. At first it was only going to be Ashley, Soda and myself, which I wasn't so sure I liked the idea of, since Ashley always ran off to see someone else. So I was more than thankful when Two-Bit decided to come along. For one, it meant that I'd never be left alone with Soda, because I didn't want to talk about going to England, _or _about if I'd ever go out with him. And for two, I hadn't seen Two-Bit lately, and he was always a fun guy to be around.

"I have to keep going, Ash!" I called across the street, "I have ten minutes!"

"Go without me!" She yelled, "I'll talk to you later!"

"So, Naomi," Two-Bit said, sounding a little like a TV reporter, "Hows the whole big London plan coming?"

"If I can sing good at my concert, then some representatives will contact the LAPA. I leave exactly a week later."

"What if you don't sing good?"

"Then I stay here."

Two-Bit looked at Soda, and the two seemed to be silently communicating for a second.

"Good deal."

I was really lost on this.

"Hey, Naomi!"

"Oh God, hide me." I put my hand to my forehead.

"Is this Jon?" Two-Bit asked, through squinted eyes.

"Yeah."

"Hi!" He was out of breath from running across the parking lot to get to us.

"Hi, Jon."I half smiled. That seemed to be good enough for him.

"Your lesson's next, right?"

"Same time every week." I looked at Two-Bit, who seemed to get a kick out of this over-eager guy, and then to Soda, who I assumed would be laughing a little, too. Strangely, instead he was just staring at Jon with an impatient look on his face. That was one look I'd never seen on him before...not that it looked bad or anything.

"Hi, I met you before!" Jon extended his hand to Soda, who shook it half heartedly. I found myself thinking that Jon would make a good little brother.

"Yeah, I was with Ashley that time you and Naomi went to the movies? Remember, you kept talking to me?"

"Oh yeah." Jon seemed uncomfortable.

"We'll see you inan hour, Naomi." Two-Bit said cheerfully, completely blind to the two boys who were both looking at me as if asking for an explanation why the other was there.

"Yeah, I'll see you, Two-Bit." I turned and walked in the building, not acknowleging either of them.

I was hardly in the buidling for a second when both of them came bursting through the door. Funny, I seriously wasn't expecting that. I was just hoping that _one_ of them _might_ feel a little guilty in the least. It must have shown on my face, because Soda stepped away from Jon and tried to explain.

"He started to run in here after you, and I decided I should come in too incase you thought he was better because he came in to apologize and I didn't."

This was the kind of attention that Ashley, Daphne and Emilie loved, and the kind that Hannah and I hated.

"I am really uncomfortable with this situation," I said loudly, feeling a sudden urge to set things straight, "So Jon, you go and sit on that bench and wait for Shirley to call you in. Soda, you go outside with Two-Bit."

Jon started to shuffle towards the bench, stopping infront of me for a second.

"Na-"

"Don't talk to me, don't look at me, don't acknowlege me, and for God's sake-" I noticed how close he was to me, "Don't try and hug me."

He went obidently to the bench. I was surprised they listened to me, given that I was several inches shorter than both of them. I felt bad about ordering him not to try and hug me, because right now I felt very lonely. But if Jon hugged me, then Soda would want to too and if that happened I would turn bright red and not be able to talk or breath. I was about to go into singing lessons, the last thing I needed was to have my throat closed over.

"I should have been nicer to Jon," I heard Soda saying behind me, "Nothing's his fault. I'm sorry."

"I forgive you."

I looked at Jon coldly before going into my lesson. And _then_ I heard a few unmentionable words being exchanged in the main hall.

Strangely enough, most of them came from Jon.

* * *

**January 17, 1968**

I got in the door from school, only to find that my mother was gone. She'd left a note on the table.

_"Naomi," _It read, "_I've gone into the hospital.  
Your father is on his way home from Ponca City,  
I'm not sure when he'll get back, though. Hannah  
called, and left this number- 182-2762 -Mom"_

I grabbed the phone and was calling Hannah in under twenty seconds.

"Hello?" I wasn't sure I recognized the voice. It sounded a little bit like Hannah's mom, but I couldn't be sure.

"Hi, is Hannah there?"

"Yes, just a second." As usual, I twirled the phone cord around my finger and waited.

"Hello?"

I recognized Hannah's voice right away.

"Hannah!"

"Naomi?"

"Yeah!"

"Okay, just checking." There was silence for a second, then we both launched into speed talking for a few minutes.

"So," Hannah said, after telling me about her new school, "Has anything interesting gone on up north?"

"Uh...Remember Julie Dennis?"

"Yeah?"

"She got arrested two months ago and no one knows what happened to her."

"She's gotten arrested a million times, though."

"Yeah, but this time nobody's heard from her."

"Weird. Come on, that can't be the only thing!"

"Well...I nearly forgot, wait till you hear this!I've been taking singing lessons lately, since my Mom managed to get me booked into some concert in February. My teacher pulled a few strings, and now if I can sing good enough at my concert, I'm as good as enrolled in this performing arts school in London."

"That's great! And you're only sixteen. We didn't think you'd get there till you were in your twenties. Anything else?"

"One last thing that I've been saving. You know how Ash and I were always different? We didn't fight, but we never had the same interests and we'd disagree on alot of stuff?"

"Yeah," Hannah laughed dryly, "I'd noticed."

"Low and behold, we both like the same guy."

"What!"

"Along with the majority of the female population of Tulsa."

"_What!" _

"Okay, that last part was a joke. Sort of. The majority of the female population of Tulsa just stares at him when they can. I don't think that a whole lot of them actually like him in that way."

"Let me guess, then. He's likely a Soc, the best student in his class, star athelete, fancy car, but when you get down to it, he's really just a terrible guy-"

"No, _actually_, Hannah, he's not a Soc, he's a greaser, and he dropped out of school a year and a half ago, and when you do get right down to it, he's the sweetest guy in the world."

"Whoa. I stand corrected. So, why's Ash a problem?"

"She said she liked him first. In her world, that calls a claim."

"I'd say you should pretend to not like him."

"That's what I'm doing, and believe me, it's hard."

"You need to control your feelings, Naomi." She was laughing just a little bit.

"I'm controlling them pretty damn good!"

"So good that it's hard to do?"

"It's hard because he keeps on asking me out and hinting about how he doesn't want me to go to England. God, a few days ago he even got in a half arguement with Jon-"

"Who's Jon?"

"Jon is this really eager guy who takes voice from my teacher."

"So...he sorta likes you better than Ashley?"

"He thinks Ashley's a little crazy."

"Ashley is a little crazy. How'd she prove it?"

"She threw my guitar downan outdoor flight of five or six stairs."

"Why?"

"She was mad at me."

"Why was she mad at you?"

"Because...because Soda kissed me."

"Who the hell-"

"Soda is the guy in question."

"Can I rephrase that last question?"

"Uh...sure?"

"Okay. What the hell..."

"Come on, Hannah. His name is Sodapop. I didn't mind it that much. Probably because the first time I heard it my self confidence was dwindling and I would probably have jumped off a cliff had I been told to."

"Okay. Why were you kissing him?"

"I'm going to refer to it as 'he was kissing me' because really it wasn't my choice and it really caught me off guard-"

"But you didn't mind it."

"No, I'm going to be honest, I didn't."

"Okay.I get it now. So, who's this Jon?"

"Ash made me tell Soda that I couldn't ever be with him, and my excuse was that there was someone else. And I randomly named someone that I'd met at voice, and it just so happened to be Jon. Then Ash and Soda were meeting me after a group lesson and they saw Jon and he thought I was interested and the rest is history."

"Do Em and Daph know all this?"

"No, they're too close to Ash as well."

"Okay. Firstly- wait, you said Jon and Soda got in an arguement?"

"Not really. Just giving each other looks. I told Jon to sit on a bench and Soda to go outside."

"How're they taking it?"

"Haven't talked to either of them since."

"How's that working for you?"

"If you want to know the truth, I'm scared stiff that one might be mad at me."

"What you need to do is- Never mind, I have to go. I'll talk to you soon."

"Bye." I hung up the phone and leaned against the wall. Why was it that ever since Christmas, there's always been something on my mind to bother me?


	13. Not Understandable

I'm semi-happy so I decided to update.

**

* * *

January 19th **

I hadn't been able to reach Ashley to tell her to get in touch with Hannah, and I _hardly_ had a doubt as to where she was. I also hadn't been in touch with Jon or Sodapop since I'd ordered them around, andI was still nervous that one of them might be angry with me.

Fortunately for me, my parents had left me their car. I still don't know why they'd trust me with it. So I could get to the Curtis's in about half the time it took me to walk. And the sooner I got there, the sooner I busted Ashley. And, strange as it was, I was looking forwards to it.

When I got there, Pony was sitting on the front porch staring straight ahead. He had his eyes squinted, like he didn't quite comprehend something. I'd seen the same look on my Grampy many times. It meant he was off in his own little world, completely oblivious to anything going on around him. But, even in a pre-occupied state, it's pretty hard to ignore it when a strange car drives right up to your house.

"Hi," I smiled, feeling a sort of hollow feeling when he squinted up at me, the same expression Grampy used when I'd disturb his daydreams, "Ashley wouldn't be here, would she?"

"No," he looked surprised, "She hasn't been here."

"Strange, she's always here whenI look for her."

"Yeah, she's here alot. You don't always show up, though."

"Really?" I leaned against the railing and crossed my arms, "She's here that much?"

"Yeah. I...sometimes when she's here, you know..."

"No, what?"

"I don't really..."

"You don't really like her?"

"No. I mean, yes. I mean, you're right. Ijust don't like the way she acts, sometimes, and...could I talk to you, Naomi?"

"Sure."

"I would like her okay, it's just...she's making Soda unhappy. Man, he wouldn't show it to you guys, but..."

"Yeah, I know, but if you want her to leave, you can tell her-"

"That's...I don't mean that. I mean everything. The stuff she's done...what she made you do..."

I stopped smiling. How much did he know?

"How-"

"It's not hard, Naomi."

"But _how_ isn't it?"

"Okay, first, you've been stuck on Soda since you first laid eyes on him. Admit it."

I looked at him defiantly.

"Just admit it. It helps."

"Fine. I admit it." I said quietly, my voice a little shaky, staring wide-eyed at the ground.

"Admit what?" Pony smiled. I grinned too.

"You know what."

"No, I can't remember."

"I admit," I lowered my voice considerably, "That...what did you say again? That 'I've been stuck on Soda since I first laid eyes on him.' "

As much as I'd wanted to keep it a secret, it felt good to finally be able to tell someone.

"And Ashley is, too."

"Yes."

"So, it's sort of like a competition?"

"No. She doesn't know."

"Oh...how many people do?"

"Two. You and Hannah."

He smiled wryly, and shook his head.

"Three people know."

"Who did you tell?"

"I didn't tell no one. He figured it out on his own."

"Oh. Well...who?"

"Soda," He said, matter-of-factly, "He's been sure of it."

I felt my stomach drop considerably."Yeah, well that's just the way he is."

"I know it. So Ashley convinced you to stay away from him after she saw you kissing him?"

My head, which had been in my hands, snapped up.

"He told you that?"

"Yep," Pony nodded, "He was on cloud nine. Well, I guess until you came back. And even then it was clear that Ashley was prompting you."

"Don't remind me." I groaned, closing my eyes.

"I don't get it. You're just hurting yourselves."

"I know I'll get over it."

"Yeah, but what about Soda?"

"He can't be hurt that bad, he was on a date with Ashley not long later."

"His last girlfriend was sneaking behind his back, and got pregnant. How much do you think he can _be_ hurt?"

"What happened to the girlfriend?"

Pony shrugged indifferently.

"She's gone to Florida. We just don't talk about her. I don't think it hurts Soda _that_ much anymore, but there's just nothing to say. It's a bad memory."

"When did it happen?"

"She left in September."

"So...she wouldn't havehad her baby yet?"

"No."

"Then, how do you know it's not Soda's?"

"She said it wasn't. That's the only proof we have."

"She'll be expecting around..." I counted on my fingers, "Next May, June, July?"

"That's right."

"I wish it were real simple, Pony, but it's not. Where is Soda, anyway?"

"Out back."

"I'll see you later."

"Bye. But, Naomi?"

"Yeah?"

"Soda's still not real sure that Ashley made you do anything. I figured that out on my own. Don't tell him if you don't want to."

Surely enough, he was sitting on the backsteps. It was the first time I'd seen him since I snapped at him, and also the first time I'd seen him since I knew he knew I liked him. I felt like I'd lost a defence.

"Hi," for the first time, I was scared he wouldn't talk to me. But he moved his hands away from his mouth and spoke.

"Hi."

"Pony said you were back here." He nodded.

"Yeah, I told him I'd be back here."

"Listen, I want to apologize-"

"No, Naomi, you listen," he sighed, before going on, "I should be apologizing. Like I said, it's not Jon's fault. It's mine. I've been bothering you, and pestering you, and it should have been clear the first time you turned me down. I realize I've made you uncomfortable, and I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

I felt pretty damn helpless right then.

"It's not..." I started to say ,'It's not like that,' but really, it was. To him, it was. And who wasI to say it wasn't? That I was lying? He'd think I was just feeling sorry for him.

It was then I noticed he wasn't wearing any shoes.

"Are you crazy?" I yelped, "It's January! You'll freeze!"

"Apparently," he smirked a bit, "I _am_ crazy. I'm going inside now, anyway."

I felt like I'd just kicked a puppy.

"I don't want you to get sick," I said suddenly, catching the door.

Soda looked at me in utter confusion for a second, before letting the door close. Because, try as he might, there _is_ one thing that Sodapop Curtis can't understand. Something that no one _can_ understand. Even I don't understand it.

And that would be me.


	14. Close Your Eyes On Hushabye Mountain

This chapteris a little different, I think you can spot it pretty easily.

* * *

Five years. Five years since she died.

I remember I was only 11. Dad told me to go in and see her, because she really needed to talk to me. I still thought she looked pretty- her pale face framed with dark brown, almost black curls. Her eyes were closed, but I knew how vivid green her eyes were. In short, I'd inheireted all her looks.

She looked weak, though, and pale. A doctor had been in to see her alot, but for the past few days he'd stopped. I thought maybe Mom was getting better.

She smiled weakly at me.

"Baby," she whispered, "Can you sing for your Mama?"

I nodded. Mom always loved to hear me singing, she'd inspired my music in every way possible.

"What song?"

"Brahm's Lullaby."

"You want to go to sleep, Mama?"

She nodded, and her eyes filled with tears.

"Time for me to sleep. I have to go now. You understand?"

I nodded gravely, although I didn't.

"Keep singing, baby, okay? Don't stop until after I'm gone."

Gone where, I wondered, To sleep? That must be it.

"I promise, Mama."

"You start soon, baby."

_"Lullaby and good night,  
With roses bedight  
With lilies o'er spread is baby's wee bed  
Lay thee down now and rest,  
May thy slumber be blessed  
Lay thee down now and rest,  
May thy slumber be blessed"_

By the time I finished that, her grip on my hand was loosening, and my father's shaking grip on my shoulder was tightening. I knew then. It hit me like a rock. Mama was dying, I thought blankly, she's dying now. And I have to sing her to sleep. What if I stop? Would she live then?

"Keep singing, baby."

"Mama,"I tried to sound brave, but it sounded more like a choke, "If I don't sing you won't go to sleep-"

"I'll..Oh, no, child, I will. I'm sorry, babe, I will. I just need you to make it easier." Tears were slipping silently down her pale cheeks.

"_Lullaby, and goodnight,  
Thy Mother's delight," _

I saw her smile wearily. This was her delight. Her grip loosened on my hand and fell limp to the bed.

"_They shall guard thee at rest-" _

But I couldn't finish. Mama was gone.

"Maybe she can hear you?"

I looked up at my Daddy. He looked tired.I decided to change my song to another one Mama loved. I leaned close to her, running my small finger across her eyelid, down her temple, and throw her dark hair.

_"Close your eyes on Hushabye Mountain,  
Wave Goodbye to cares of the day,  
Watch your boat from Hushabye Mountain,  
Sail far away from lullaby bay,"_

For a long time after that, I never wanted to sing. Until I met Shirley. She heard me humming to myself and commented on my voice. Through time and persuasion, I finally started attending the occasional group lesson.

It all happened at our Christmas Recital. I'd been sitting with Dad, and starting to drift off, when I heard a voice that didn't sound anything like someone Shirley'd taught to sing. Sure, Shirley was good...but not _that_ good.

The voice belonged to a girl who reminded me of an angel, or the porcelain dolls Mama collected. She had pale, delicate features, and light blonde hair in large, perfect curls. She was obviously around my age, 17, but she was small and delicate. The wine colored dress she was wearing really stood out against her pale skin. I wondered who she was.

And so now I sit here, on a bench, listening to her sing. I probably should have known better than to try and get involved with her. She could be very nice, and sweet, I knew. She was singing a song right now...a song that was making her cry. It was an emotional song, it made me think of my mother. I knew we could be company for each other, we could help each other, and we'd probably get along very good. But she still saw something in someone else.

There's nothing special about that guy that I can see. I think she'd do well to stay away from him. Sure, he's good-looking. So are alot of guys. I knew I had something he probably didn't have. Something to relate to her about. I'd use it after this lesson. The time to strike was now. But this guy had one thing over me that Iworried I might never be able to get, and that's the strange connection with her, her infatuation, her glances, her attention - and that would be hard to compete with. I knew that I had less than a month now. If she still saw him the way she did now, she'd probably never leave Tulsa and go to London. But I couldn't stay behind for a girl, as much as I wanted to. I'd have to make her want to go. And I knew just how, because I knew her weakness.

* * *

Notice I didn't use any names? Haha. 


	15. Reflecting

Hopefully you know by now who the lastchapter was. If you don't, you should figure it out in this chapter.

Naomi's POV  
_Jon's POV_

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I don't even own my soul. I lost it in a bet...and I live under a rock...sob

I...don't...seriously live under a rock. And...I kinda...own my soul. I think. Just clearing that up.

* * *

_"Hey, Naomi," I could practically feel my heart thudding in my throat, "Can I talk to you?"_

_"Sure," She stopped walking and started to do up her coat. Unfortunately for me, I had no idea what I was going to say. Damn. Where was my mind while I was in that classroom?_

_"Uh...you sang good today."_

_"Thanks," She smiled a sort of smile that said she was grateful and after that didn't want to have to deal with me anymore. _

_"It's not an easy song to sing, is it?" I could have smacked myself. Think of something, dammit, think!_

_"No, but I've had alot of teachers before this, so I have the range to pull it off."_

_"Right...but, it's an emotional song and all, right?"_

_"Yeah, sometimes."_

_"It probably makes you miss your Grampy, huh?"_

_Her eyes looked glazed over for a second. Damn, I thought, I ruined it. _

_"Yeah, it can be hard sometimes. I'm going now." She turned sharply on her heel. She really isn't that blunt sometimes, especially when she's upset with someone._

_"It's not like I'm looking down at you, or something, it's not like there's anything wrong with missing someone you lost-"_

_"Okay, Jon," She rounded on me, and I couldn't remember ever being scared of someone I had to look down in on in order to make eye contact, "Is it okay to keep reminding me of it?" _

_I followed her outside trying to explain myself. I wished I never tried to approach her at all. _

_"Naomi, why are you acting like this?"_

_That stopped her._

_"Acting like what?"_

_"Acting like you're the only person in the world who's ever lost someone."_

_"Who have you ever lost, Jon?"_

_"My mother. She died when I was 11. You think I pretend I don't miss her?"_

_"Yeah, I think you do, because you've never mentioned it before."_

_"Maybe I didn't want to think about it. Maybe I thought I'd get this reaction. I don't tend to just walk on up to people and say,  
'Guess what? My mother's been dead for five years! I miss her!' "_

_Naomi's expression softened a bit._

_"I'm sorry, Jon."_

_"Don't be. I guess I do pretend that I don't miss her. It's sorta strange," I sat down on the cold stone steps beside her, "But I've never felt like I wanted to sing or have anything to do with music since she died. She asked me to sing to her when she was dying. I sang Brahm's Lullaby and Hushabye Mountain. It all happens awful fast."_

_"I know," Naomi's eyes stayed focused on the road, but her lips nearly curled into a smile, "My Grampy was the one who made me want to sing. He used to go up to Canada every summer. Most of the time, he'd stay in Eastern Canada.(_AN- Boo-yah. Atlantic Canadians OWN_)He loved the music, the scenery...he was actually almost fluent in the Gaelic language,_ _he taught me a little bit. He had three favorite songs that he always sang to me. Well, actually, one of them I never used to like much..."_

_"What was it called?"_

_"Process Man. It made me cry."_

_"How did it go?"_

**August 25, 1957**

"C'mere, Mimi," Grampy smiled as I clambered onto his lap, "You want to hear another song I learned?"

I nodded eagerly. I was six years old, and it was Grampy's welcome back party from his return from Canada.

He began singing in his low, haunting voice,

_"And it's go, boys, go,  
They'll time your every breath,  
And every day you're in this place,  
You're two days nearer death,  
But you go,_

_Well, a process man I am and I'm telling you no lie,  
I work and breathe among the fumes that tread across the sky,  
There's thunder all around me and there's poison in the air,"_

But Grampy's voice was soon drowned out by my screaming.

"Shh, Mimi, do you want to hear some talk?"

I knew what that meant. He was going to teach me some new words in that funny language! He'd taught me some French, and some Spanish, so now he was filling me in with a few Gaelic phrases. If he was lucky, by the time I was ten I'd be able to say exactly five words in no less than fifteen different languages.

"I'm going to ask you where you're from, and you answer, 'Is as Meiriceá', okay?"

I nodded.

"Okay. Cá as duit?"

"Iz awz marcka."

"Good job. That means, 'I'm from America.' I bet you'll be able to speak alot of languages when you're big."Grampy never commented on my sloppy foreign languages.

"Anything else?"

"I can say, 'Naomi is very álainn," Do you know what that means?"

"Little? Funny?"

"No, it means, 'Naomi is very beautiful," I remember I giggled and a few of the adults laughed.

"Okay, time to eat, " He set me on the ground, "Ta gra agam ort."

"What's that, Grampy?" I took his hand and walked into the blinding afternoon sunlight.

"It means, I love you."

**January 15, 1967**

I'd never been to a wake before. I stood behind my older cousin the whole time. It smelled weird, and there was soft organ music playing from nowhere I could see. Grampy was lying there, really still. People were commenting on how good he looked. I didn't think he looked good. He looked different. I didn't know what they did to people at funeral homes in those few days you left the bodies alone with them, but whatever it was, it changed how Grampy looked.

It was a few minutes before people started pouring in.A few I knew, a few were really kind, but for the most part, it was just a lot of hald-hearted handshakes and them just murmuring, 'Deepest Sympathy,' or 'Sorry for Your Loss,'

I didn't believe these people. They didn't even look at me when they said it. If you're going to say it, at least _act_ like you mean it.

The next day, we went to the funeral. I had been asked to say something at the funeral, and it was up to me what. It didn't exactly rest my mind.

"Grampy said he stood for four things," my voice seemed to echo everywhere, and even though I was used to it in my singing,I was uncomfortable, "Love, Friendship, Music and Peace." I was silent, as the people in the chapel repeated my words.

"_Love, Friendship, Music, and Peace."_

Annsachd, cairdeas, ceÒl, soíchán," I smiled at the closed casket, "Ta gra agam ort."

At the gathering, I was approached by my Uncle Dan.

"Naomi," he sounded a little amused, "Grampy wanted you to sing at the gathering."

"Oh...what song?"

"In his state, he couldn't remember the name of the song. He said it was that one about the wake where strange things happened?"

"Oh, Finnegan's Wake?"

"I don't know. The one where the man wakes up?"

"Yeah."

"That's the one."

"Right." Leave to to Grampy to want a humorous song sung when he died. Uncle Dan got everyone's attention, and told them I was going to sing. Needless to say, I didn't have any accompaniment.

_"Tim Finnegan lived in Walkin' Street  
A gentleman, Irish, mighty odd;  
He had a brogue both rich and sweet  
And to rise in the world he carried a hod.  
Now Tim had a sort of the tipplin' way  
With a love of the whiskey he was born  
And to help him on with his work each day  
He'd a "drop of the cray-thur" every morn.  
__  
Whack fol the darn O, dance to your partner  
Whirl the floor, your trotters shake;  
Wasn't it the truth I told you  
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake! _

_One mornin' Tim was feelin' full  
His head was heavy which made him shake;  
He fell from the ladder and broke his skull  
And they carried him home his corpse to wake.  
They rolled him up in a nice clean sheet  
And laid him out upon the bed,  
A gallon of whiskey at his feet  
And a barrel of porter at his head._

_Whack fol the darn O, dance to your partner  
Whirl the floor, your trotters shake;  
Wasn't it the truth I told you  
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake! _

_His friends assembled at the wake  
And Mrs. Finnegan called for lunch,  
First they brought in tay and cake  
Then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch.  
Biddy O'Brien began to bawl  
"Such a nice clean corpse, did you ever see?  
"O Tim, mavourneen, why did you die?"  
"Arragh, hold your gob!" said Paddy McGhee!_

_Whack fol the darn O, dance to your partner  
Whirl the floor, your trotters shake;  
Wasn't it the truth I told you  
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake! _

Then Maggie O'Connor took up the job  
"O Biddy," says she, "You're wrong, I'm sure"  
Biddy she gave her a belt in the gob  
And left her sprawlin' on the floor.  
And then the war did soon engage  
'Twas woman to woman and man to man,  
Shillelagh law was all the rage  
And a row and a ruction soon began.

_Whack fol the darn O, dance to your partner  
Whirl the floor, your trotters shake;  
Wasn't it the truth I told you  
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake! _

_Then Mickey Maloney ducked his head  
When a noggin of whiskey flew at him,  
It missed, and falling on the bed  
The liquor scattered over Tim!  
The corpse revives! See how he raises!  
Timothy rising from the bed,  
Says,"Whirl your whiskey around like blazes  
Thanum an Dhul! Do you thunk I'm dead?"_

_Whack fol the darn O, dance to your partner  
Whirl the floor, your trotters shake;  
Wasn't it the truth I told you  
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake! "_

A lot of the parents thought it was awful funny. It really showed how funny Grampy was. I didn't like it, because in the song, the guy wasn't dead at all. Grampy had yet to rise.

"Funny," Jon was saying, as I snapped back to attention, "How the two stories are the same in a way, when everything about them's different."

"Yeah, and there's my Dad." Dad was home for a few days, "I'll see you later. Go raibh maith agat."

"What?"

"Thank you." I hugged him and skipped off to the car. I had once seen Jon asa potential boyfriend, and lately as a potential little brother. But as of now, I really just saw him as a potential friend. As soon as he stopped being everywhere I was _without_ coincedence involved.

* * *

**I had a little prompting from my sister to put some good ole Atlantic Canadian folksongs in there. I had to put in Process Man because my uncle used to sing it (he can't sing) and it scared me. Mostly because he can't sing. **

**Finnegan's Wake was an old classic at Ceilidhswe used to go to at this place closed to somewhere we used to live, and so it's always been a favorite.**

**-Jamea**


	16. Steve, the Agony Aunt

I switch POVs halfway or so through. That's all I have so say as long as I don't fall asleep on my computer.

**January 30th**

I couldn't remember, at this point, what it was like to not worry about something.

For me, it was mostly the upcoming competition in exactly thirteen days. And if I was good enough, I would go to London. Which would be in twenty days. So, really, the biggest worry on my mind was that I might have twenty days left in Tulsa. I called Ashley, Hannah, Emilie and Daphne, but none of them were able to talk long, and I really needed someone to talk to.

I came to the conclusion that I would swallow my pride and go apologize to Sodapop for whatever I did to offend him, and tell him how even though I don't really return his feelings,I wish we could stillbe friends, (I've said it once, and I'll say it again -I can lie through my teeth and nobody notices) and then see if he'd listen to me. And if he wouldn't, I'd talk to Pony, because, for someone two years younger, he's a surprisingly good friend, and he'd almost become my mentor lately...which I found a little weird.

Anyway, I wasn't about to call them, because I never did that, and it would be weird for me. So I set off across town, noticing how easy the walk was, seeing as I'd done it more times than I could count. This time I chose to take the route that took me by the old record store, and I saw something in the window that made my breath catch in my throat.

It was a guitar. But not an acoustic one, like I had, it was an electric guitar. Like the ones Eric Clapton, and Jimi Hendrix played. It was shiny brown in color, and the silver strings gleamed in the winter sunlight pouring through the window. For the first time, the record store looked beautiful. I tore my eyes away and walked on, but I knew how much I'd be thinking about it later.

As I continued on my way, I thought I heard the sound of car tires. Like when a car drives on soggy wet gravel. I turned and saw a car driving away.

That's weird, I thought, it was awfully close to me. It was just parked there...but nobody got in or out ofit. It only moved once I did.

It wasa dark wine color, and looked alot like my dad's car. Really, I'd say it _was _my Dad's car, but he'd be at work right then. But that meant I'd easily recoginze it if I ever saw it again.

I suddenly got chills down my spine, and ran all the rest of the way there.

* * *

"Sure," he said, brightly, "You didn't think I didn't want anything to do with you, did you?" 

"No," I lied, "But just incase, that might've been a bit...awkward, if you didn't."

I had never known anyone in my life to be as agreeable. Then again, I'd never known anyone in my life to be anything like Soda.

"No way, we're still friends as long as you want to be. What did you want to talk about?"

I had planned on keeping my cool. I really had. But sometimes things don't work out like you plan.

"ImightbeleavingintwentydaysandI'mscaredandIdon'tknowifIwanttoleavehomeornot!"

There was a silence that hung for a few seconds.

"What?"

"I might be leaving in twenty days and I don't know if I really want to go to London and leave everyone because ifI do I might not see my parents for a long time and my Mom's sick and she might not be able to come to my concert and-"

I was cut off by an amused snort from the doorway, where Steve had caught the last few lines of my speil.

"Knock it off, would you, Steve?" I snapped bitterly. Steve was easily unfazed...I'm not incredibly intimidating. I think it might have to do with my size.

"I ain't gonna knock it off," he drawled, sauntering into the room, "Sounds like you've got a beef, Naomi."

"Yeah, I do. And I don't need you laughing about it."

"Hey, who says I'm gonna laugh? Come on, I'm sure I make a great agony aunt."

I rolled my eyes at this statement.

"I don't believe it."

"You never know till you give it a shot."

I looked at Soda for help, but he only shrugged.

"Okay," I sighed in defeat, "I'm sure you know just as well as everybody else that if I sing well enough in the competition, I'll be able to go to London. The thing is, I don't know if I want to go anymore. I mean, I'll really miss my parentssomething terrible, and I'm worrying that I won't like London-"

"Think about your life if you go to London." Soda said suddenly.

"Okay," I imagined myself singing to vast crowds, and learning from the best teachers, at a world renowned performing arts school, where only the best attended-

"Now, think what it'll be like if you don't."

I thought of myself continuing to take lessons from Shirley...even though she was only supposed to prepare me for the recital, I couldn't imagine life without her lessons now. I thought about how I'd graduate with my friends, and then...dead end. A missed opportunity that alot of people wish they could have.

"Yeah," I said, decidedly, "I guess you're right."

"Right about what?"

"About what I want to do."

"I don't know what you want to do," Soda argued, "I just told you what _you_ can do to decide. I really don't know what you're going to do."

I got up to leave, and turned and looked at him for a second, sadness sweeping through me.

"Good," I said, quietly, "That's probably good."

* * *

**---------> Sodapop's POV -------**

"What'd she mean, _good_?" Steve asked real quiet, scrunching up his face.

"She meant it was a good thing I don't know what she's doing," I felt sick in the pit of my stomach, "Man, she's leaving. I know it, Stevie."

"Why would she want to go to London? It sounds...dumb."

"She wants to be a singer, Steve. This'll help her."

"Okay," he was quiet for a minute. I couldn't see him, because I'd looked away on purpose, but I knew he was watching me, "You said you didn't think about her anymore. For the past week or so," He was quiet again. I could tell he was thinking, "That wasn't true, was it?"

"Not...it's not that I don't think about her, but-"

"-but you're not hoping for her anymore," Steve finished my sentence, sitting down across from me, "Man, you can't give up so easy."

"No, Steve," I said, tired, "I didn't give up. I fought to the end. I really did. I just lost."

" 'I just lost' " He mimicked me, and gave a small laugh, "No way. No way does the Great Sodapop Curtis 'just lose'. "

This was tiring me, and it also wasn't making me feel better.

"Aw, come on, Steve-"

"No," he said, suddenly serious, "_You_ come on. Look at you. You're gettin yourself all worked up over some little broad-"

"I aint getting myself worked up over some little broad,"I argued, "I wouldn't go after any girl if I thought she was just some little broad to get myself worked up over. I learned my lesson." I added quietly.

Steve looked confused, beforea light of understanding lit in his eyes.

"You still think about Sandy?"

"Sometimes."

"That means alot?"

"IfI ever think about Naomi, I just think about Sandy, too. I don't know, it's not like I want to. It happens."

"Listen," Steve said, like he was soothing an upset child, "You're still young. You ain't gonna be thinking about the same two women your whole life. Why don't you come keep me company at work?"

"It's my-"

"Day off? Yeah, I know, but you'd be thinking about them girls causing you problems again, and we don't need that."

"Sure," I said, walking to the door with him, "Hey, Steve...you know, you're pretty good at that. That advice giving stuff."

His eyes glinted.

"I wasn't lying when I told Naomi I'd make a good agony aunt."

"Yeah, yeah, ole' Auntie...when does your shift start?"

"About...about ten minutes ago." He stated nonchalantly, walking out the door.


	17. Always a Part Of Me

Disclaimer: Hopefully you've figured out by now that I am by no means SE Hinton and so I therefore own NOTHING. Thank you.

I had to go through and rid my story of _all_ song lyrics, save one on the first page. Oops. I'm just going to save all my chapters, and if worst comes to worst and this gets taken down, I'll have it back up in roughly a day without the ABBA song.

**And for the record, if anyone reads my other story, it's NOT DONE YET. Just clearing up some confusion.**

* * *

**February 2nd, 1968**

Mom went back into the hospital today. Dad, who came home from Oklahoma City early, said that the doctors said it had to do with her kidneys. I'm not a doctor, so I wasn't even going to pretend I knew the level of seriousness.

Due to alot of snow,(**A/N...I don't know how much it snows in Oklahoma, so for this story, it snowsthe same amount as Atlantic Canada..._ouch.) _**we didn't have school for a few days, so I had a lot of time to practice my singing, and listen to my music.

I hadn't listened to anything classical, or opera, in over a month or more. I'd since aquired albums from The Doors, Bobby Gentry, The Wanted, Monkees, Van Morrison, The Beatles, Simon and Garfunkel, Elvis Presley, and Jose Feliciano. And I'd still stare at the electric guitar in the music shop window every time I passed it.

I'd gotten completely sick of the song Shirley picked out for me, that one called 'Now You've Gone and Left Me' but I really couldn't learn a new song in the ten days I had. I chalked it up to nerves, and decided that in order to get myself back into a 'music mode' I'd write my own song. I still don't know how I came up with that idea. But if I felt exceptionally musical, maybe I'd like Shirley's friend's song again. Who knew?

I was lying on my back, strumming some chords on my guitar. It was only eight in the morning, but since Mom had to go in to the hospital around five in the morning, I hadn't gotten much sleep.

Suddenly, a tune popped into my head. I don't know where it came from, andI did know it would take a while to figure out how to play it, but once I started, I made suitable changes, and soon the lyrics were pouring into my head from God knows where.

* * *

It was about three in the afternoon, and the snow had died down considerably. I was in need of company, and I'd been alone all day with nothing with me but the farmiliar ache of not having Grampy...he was always around, it seemed. So I did the only thing that I really felt like doing right then. I went and got Ashley, and dragged her off to go pay a visit to Soda, who I knew was working that day and probably snowed into the gas station. 

I didn't know how accurate I was. There was literally a four foot drift against the door.I could see Soda and some guy with a brush cut laughing at us from inside. Ashley gave them a rude sign with her hand.

I brushed some of the snow off the top, but it wouldn't all come off.

"Perfect," Ashley said, "Just perfect. Now we have to go back-"

"Ash-"

"And we came all this way-"

"Ash-"

"And in the freezing weather, too-"

"ASHLEY!"

"What?"

"The door pushes in."

Ashley looked bewildered for a second.

"I knew that." She said quietly, and walked forwards to push the door ahead. Even so, we had to climb over the snowbank, which was anything but easy. Soda and that other guy were in hysterics laughing. Soda I could understand, but I didn't know what the other guy found so funny. The look of us climbing over the snowbank wasn't near as funny if you didn't know us...

"Merry Christmas," I grumbled, slumping against a wall to brush the snow off of my pants.

"Quite the weather, isn't it?" Ashley said airly, leaning against the counter and tucking her hair behind her ear. It didn't matter that she'd embarrassed herself outside...Ashley was, as usual, the epitome of calm.

Well...I could think of a few times when she wasn't so calm. Take Christmas Eve, for example.

This was a bad train of though for me to get on while Soda was that close, because I'd inevitably start to stare at him without realizing it or something. But my god, he'd kissed me! I had the right to think about it! Even if it was only about two or three seconds because Ashley got a little hacked off when she came back. _Why _did she have to come back when she did? _Why..._

I noticed I was staring off into space, turning a delicate shade of pink. I put my head down, covering my face with my curls, and rubbed my forehead and chin. Stop thinking about that...stop thinking about that...stop thinking...

"Whaddare ya thinking about, Naomi? You seem distracted."

I could hardly bring my amber eyes to meet Sodapop's brown ones. It was horrible.

"Just...imagining what London might be like...if I get to go..."

I saw something flash behind his eyes, something that I don't think I was supposed to see.

"How're you getting on with your chemistry project, Naomi?" Ashley asked, grinning, "Have you started?"

"No," I argued, "It's due in March. I'm gone to London by February 19th."

"Looks like you're a little more confident than you let on." Soda said, grinning, but I saw it in his eyes again. Something he was trying to conceal. A really sad, defeated kind of hurt.

"Maybe." I said, smiling shyly.

"London?" piped up the guy with the brush cut, "Why're you going to London?"

I was about to explain, for what seemed like the millionth time, when Ashley held up her hand.

"I'll explain this time."

It wasa nice change.

"How've you been?" I asked Soda suddenly, in the middle of his sentence.

"Good...why?"

"I mean, really. How are you really?"

"Good...I'm really good..."

I only asked because I sensed something was wrong. And, partially because I'm pretty humble, and partially because it's true, I sensed it wasn't all because of my leaving.

"Okay. It's gonna be weird...being gone from here, and all."

"Yeah...when you grow up here, it's sorta a part of you."

"Yeah..." I said, a realization dawning on me, "It's almost fifty percent of who you are..."

**Soda's POV**

I'd expected alot when I'd lost Sandy. Alot of bad experiences, alot of girls who'd turn me down, and then I'd expected the unexpected.

But I'd never expected someone like Naomi. She wasn't different from alot of the middle class girls, it was mostly her singing that made her stand out, but she was really different from any of the girl's I'd taken an interest in. It used to make me wonder how many girls like Naomi I might have fallen for if they'd talked to me.

Now I know that I wouldn't have. Because none of the other middle class girls would have had the gall to leave Tulsa and go to London. When you're born in Tulsa, you almost always stay in Tulsa. If you're a Soc, or a greaser, it's your way of life...and wherever you go, you're always from Tulsa. It's always part of you.

Then there are people like Naomi, who can go anywhere and still be part of Tulsa without Tulsa being part of her.

So here she was, standing in front of me, a hidden kind of pretty, a little giggly, a middle class girl, with a voice like some sort of angel, day dreaming about her time that she'd spend somewhere else, and I was falling for her.

The problem was that, Naomi could live anywhere, but I felt that I'd never leave Tulsa. It was a huge part of me, as much as I didn't want it.

We both had two completely different futures, and I was starting to see that it was dumb of me to want them to both be one.

* * *

**I don't know if I'm happy with this chapter... but I updated, so...there you go.**

**I'm going to update Bridging the Gap next. I swear.**

**------>OFFICIAL NOTICE --------**

**Singing Her Heart Out is officially coming toa close...whoa. Didn't take too long in my standards. I'd say five or less chapters left.**

**And I know how much you guys have been missing Jon lately...so he'll be back in... one or two chapters. **

**I'm not serious. I know you don't like him. Buuuuuuut he's a convienent obstacle, so I'm using him. **

**And that's all for now.**

**Cheers, **

**Jamea**


	18. Mysterious and Anonymous

**I just watched Grease. Man, what a great movie. Soo...I think that there will be three more chapters, including this one.**

**Important: Because of the whole song lyrics thing we got going on here, I changed the song that Naomi's going to sing. It's written by a friend of Shirley's, and said friend doesn't advertise her work. If you want to read more on it, go back to chapter...**

**

* * *

**

Of all the things I thought I might find when I got home, this wasn't it.

I didn't know how it got into my house. Really, anyone could have put it there, since I accidently left the house unlocked.

It was beautiful, in it's own way. The sunlight seemed to reflect off of it, despite the fact that it was a dank, cloudy day. It was everything I remembered it to be, and somehow it managed to be even more intruiging now that it was actually in front of me.

It was the electric guitar from the music store.

And, of course, there was a note. What better to complete a mysterious gift from an anonymous source than an anonymous, mysterious note? It read,

_Naomi,_

_You'll always be my Starling._

Whoa. Starling. That went a long way back. When I was four or five, I'd get up on my toy chest and sing for my aunts and uncles. They called me a little starlet, which easily transferred to Starling, and was a play on my last name -Sterling. Mostly it was my parents who started it, but it spread easily. And then I told my friends, so anyone who knows me knows my childhood nickname.

I looked at it again. It wasa chocolate brown in color, a little plain compared to the ones that you might see some more famous people playing, but I still thought it was great. It had six silver strings, a little thicker than my acoustic guitar's, and beside it was a cord attached toa big, square amplifier on the ground. Someone knew their guitars. My parents, say, would never know that an electric guitar required an amplifier.

I smiled. This was possibly the best gift I ever recieved.

But who did I recieve it from?

* * *

"Shirley," I asked, looking up from my music, "What would happen if someone switched songs at the last minute for the recital, and didn't tell anyone?"

She looked at me strangely.

"Well, they don't know what you're doing yet, so you'll have to tell them into the microphone what song you're singing right before you begin."

"Okay. Can you...Do you know why your friend never wanted to publicize her song?"

"No, Naomi, I don't know for sure. But I _do _know that it was based on a personal experience. Don't you think that gives her the right to keep it private?"

"I guess so. But why am I singing it?"

"Because my friend Anna, who wrote it, decided that since it helped her heal already, it doesn't need to be private anymore. It's a good song, and it flatters your voice, Naomi, and she gave me permission to use it."

"Okay. But still, if it's _her_ song in that sense..."

"I assure you, Naomi, it's fine. Make it your own. From the beginning."

Later on, as I walked home, I thought of Shirley's words.

_Make it your own..._

_Make it your own..._

_Make it your own..._

I smiled. Shirley hadn't verbally indicated what _it _might be. So she couldn't nail me whatI was about to do.

* * *

**Sorry about my short chapter, but what's happening in the next chapter has to have it's own chapter, I already decided. It'll be up in the next two days. And an update for Bridging the Gap is up in a week at the most. **


	19. Did You Feel It?

This chapter just needed it's own chapter. It just..._did. _

_

* * *

**February 12, 1968 **_

If you think you know nerves, you haven't seen this.

I don't know what half the girls were nervous about. Jon andI were the only ones who were trying to get to London through our performance tonight. These other girls didn't even really take it seriously, from what I could tell. They had half an hour before the show started, and all they were doing was fixing their hair, applying their makeup, and adjusting their bright colored dresses, which were really in style then. Naturally, I felt out of place in a black dress, and my hair as curly as it ever was, when all of a sudden, every girl around was ironing their hair...actually _ironing_ it, like they would a shirt. I thought it was completely ridiculous, but apparently it worked.

One thing that was getting at me was that Mom and Dad weren't there. Mom was still sick, and she couldn't leave the hospital in Oklahoma City. Dad didn't want to leave her alone. I wasn't expecting anyone to come when the families were allowed to come in to our little dressing rooms that we had. I would have expected Ashley, Emilie and Daphne to come in, but it was a strict family only rule. It made me feel like I was in a hospital with strict visiting hours.

I was surprised to hear Shirley's voice outside my room, saying loudly, "Come on, kids! Let's go see your sister, Naomi!"

I covered my mouth with my hand to keep from laughingas Ashley, Daphne, Emilie, Soda, Pony, and Two-Bit came in behind her. But it was actually the person at the back of the line that I was surprised to see.

"Hannah!" I shrieked, flinging myself at her.

"I found your teacher and your friends," She said, laughing, "So I followed them in."

"For having such a strict family only policy, the security didn't even doubt fora second that I could have seven kids all the same age." Shirley said, shaking her head.

"Hannah," I whispered, when everyone stopped paying attention to us, "_Look_ at the color of my dress!"

"Black," she said, shrugging, "Doesn't it suit your song, a little bit?"

"Yeah, but..." I looked at the tiny mirror, "Any chance I could change my hair color in thirty minutes?"

Hannah laughed and went to talk to Ashley, and Shirley approached me.

"Why do you have your guitar, Naomi?"

I paniced. She wasn't supposed to see that. Actually, she wasn't supposed to be in my dressing room since she wasn't family. But anyway...

"I just brought it so that I could play it before. You know, keep my voice warmed up but still take my mind off the recital."

"Good idea," she said, nodding, "That's good. Calm your nerves." She went to talk to Emilie, who played the piano, so they were hitting it off okay.

"Told you I'd come!" A pair of arms wrapped around me from behind. I could only guess whos they were, and it didn't exaclty calm my nerves.

"I knew you were coming, Soda... I'm still surprised you did, though."

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't miss the chance to hear my friend sing. Unless it was Two-Bit here." He nudged Two-Bit, who nudged him back, and it soon turned into a shove fight.

"Come on," Shirley said, beckoning for them to follow her, "Let's go to our seats."

I felt even more nervous then before, watching them leave. I sang quietly to myself, strumming my guitar every now and then...

_"Idon't want to fall asleep anymore-  
Because I know when I wake up,  
You won't be here,  
And I can't take it much more,_

_And I depended on you,  
And you relied on me,  
And now you've gone and left me,  
It's blinded me, I just can't see,"_

Somehow I couldn't sing Shirley's friend's song without wondering about the woman. But I didn't have to worry about it, because I'd done what Shirley had told me...and _made it my own._

And I wondered when I'd start to regret it.

* * *

"Ladies and Gentlemen, our seventh performer of the night, Ms. Naomi Sterling." 

My stomach felt even more sick then when I'd had the flu a couple months earlier. I walked up to the microphone, trying not to look for Shirley, because this would be alot easier if I couldn't see her. ButI saw her...and she held my eyes for a second. I could plainly read her expression.

She wanted to know why I had my acoustic guitar on stage with me. But I didn't let it faze me. At least, I _tried_ not to.

"Hello," I said, smiling my sweetest, most crowd-winning smile, "My name is Naomi Sterling. Originally, tonight, I was going to sing Anna Scott's _Now You've Gone and Left Me, _but I found that, since it was written to ventilate personal pain and loss, it didn't feel right for me to sing, especially when I have my own pain and loss I'd rather sing for. I wrote this song for my Grampy, who died a bit more than a year ago. I appreciate everyone listening tonight."

I stepped back from the microphone to put my guitar strap over my head, and in those five seconds,I was hit with a dozen questions inside my head. Most of them were something along the lines of 'What the hell were you thinking! Sing the right song! SING THE RIGHT SONG!'

But there was no going back now. I licked my lips nervously, and stepped back to the microphone.I saw my life flash before my eyes.

"_I didn't cry when I could,  
Do you see me, do you think I should?  
It doesn't feel right,"_

I was silently greatful that my guitar wasn't having 'one of those days' that it had sometimes since it got cracked. And to think, it never would have happened if Ashley and Sodapop knew how to control themselves.

_"I miss your smile, I miss your face,  
Can you hear me good from your resting place?  
Because I'm singing for you tonight," _

Somehow, the song lyrics managed to wipe out my semi-humorous thoughts. For about a split second, I had a feeling that Grampy _could_ hear me, but it was gone soon after.

"_And they're all telling me that I'm strong,  
But really, I've been weak all along,  
And all I have is this simple song,  
To tell you that I miss you,"_

I saw Shirley's face. Her brow was furrowed, but I saw unmistakable amusment in her eyes. She must have had a notion of what I was up to all along.

_"Even though it hasn't really been that long,  
I just can't let you go, no, it feels so wrong,  
And all I have is this simple song,  
to tell you that I miss you,"_

The feeling came back again, if only for a couple seconds.

_"We were two of a kind, you and I,  
When I saw you were gone, I didn't even cry,  
Because it didn't feel right,  
Not a single tear shed on this face,"_

While I sang, this song was doing for what I had never been able to do...cry openly over my Grampy. I swallowed quickly between the two lines, preparing for the crescendo in the next couple of lines,

_"And I know you're smiling in your resting place,  
Because you know that I'm singing for you, tonight,"_

One tear slid down my cheek, and startled me. I'd gotten into the song to an extent that I forgot the audience was there. But they seemed to be enjoying it a bit. I could see that Emilie and Ashley were both crying openly, and Daphne looked a little sad. I couldn't find Soda, Pony or Two-Bit in the audience.

"_I still can't believe you're gone,  
Because I thought that you'd always go on,  
And I really think you should know,  
I don't know how to let you go,"_

I think I snapped somewhere in there, because, the next thing I knew, I was a hysterical mess. Onstage. In front of a thousand people. Well, not hysterical enough to not be able to finish my song. _That_ I could do, purely because I knew I had to.

"_And they're all telling me that I'm strong,  
But really, I've been weak all along,  
And all I have is this simple song,  
To tell you that I loveyou,  
Even though it hasn't really been that long,  
I just can't let you go, no, it feels so wrong,  
And all I have is this simple song,  
to finally say Goodbye to you,"_

I smiled through my tears when the crowd stood up to applaud. I had felt for the entire last chorus that Grampy was right there with me. So this was that feeling that Shirley talked about. I understood now what she meant. The raw feeling made the music that much better. I wondered if I could ever feel like that in London, away from everyone.

I was met offstage by a huge round of hugs. Shirley had already made her way backstage, and pulled me aside for a second. Looking me in the eye, she smiled.

"I don't think I need to say anything. Naomi, that was incredible. Did you feel it?"

I sniffed, smiled, and nodded.

"Good. Do you want to know something? I was a little disappointed at first that you didn't sing my song, but now I'm glad. I should have seen what you meant. I'm glad you did it. You're going to London for sure."

I smiled. That was really all I had to do.

Once she walked away, I saw Soda standing alone, aboutten feet from me. I approached him cautiously.

"Soda..."

He looked up at me, and smiled. I couldn't tell, but in the dark, it looked like he was crying as well. Werethere _any_ dry eyes around here?

"Yeah?"

I was standing directly infront of him now. I somehow didn't even have to ask.

"Your parents? And...your friends?"

"They were too young to die. None of 'em had to go that soon. None..." His sentence trailed off, and he adverted his eyes to the floor. I subconciously flung my arms around him in a tight grip, and a few excess tears leaked out of my eyes. I don't know how long we might have stayed like that...sharing in each other's loss...but something distracted us both.

The voice of a boy, about my age, singing. It was slow, sad, and sweet, and the voice rang clear around us, echoing a sorrowful melody I recognized from mychildhood.

_"A gentle breeze from hushabye mountain  
Softly blows o'er lullaby bay  
It fills the sails of boats that are waiting  
Waiting to sail your worries away"_

We slowly crept towards the stage. Something about the instrumentals being played on a series of alto and bass zylophones and metalaphones gave it a dream-like quality, and I was reminded vaguely of a fairy, as I tip toed to the place where we could watch the show without being seen by the audience. I knew who was singing it at once.

_"It isn't far to hushabye mountain  
And your boat waits down by the key  
The winds of night so softly are sighing  
Soon they will fly your troubles to sea"_

The sorrowful, haunting melody alone made me feel empty, but the image of Jon singing it now, and the image I had of his younger self, singing as his mother slowly died...

I was aware of Soda's presence behind me, andI was glad.

_"So close your eyes on hushabye mountain  
Wave goodbye to cares of the day  
And watch your boat from Hushabye Mountain  
Sail far away from lullaby bay."_

A glockenspiel played the melody one last time, andI put my head down slowly, and breathed deeply, composing myself. I turned slowly about, and held onto Sodapop, crying again, except this time, I wasn't crying for myself.

**Guess how many chapters are left. **

**No, seriously, guess.**

**I'll tell you.**

**ONE!**

**Seriously. One left. I'll speak with you at the end of the next chapter about...stuff. Like, a sequel and whatnot.  
This chapter...I was actually happy with. And I love the song 'Hushabye Mountain'. It's so pretty, in an erie way, the same with the song 'Once Upon a December' from Anastasia. **

**Now I'm rambling. I'll let you go. **

**Cheers, **

**Jamea**


	20. Go Chase Your Dream

**This is it, guys. Funny how I started it after Bridging the Gap and finish it before...**

**Oh well. It's all good. **

**This chapter is dedicated to BlackWiltedRoses who definately deserves it for leaving such lovely reviews that really made my day. :-) And it's just that much more special because this is _the _chapter. It all comes down to this, my friends.**

**

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**

We had a special kind of gala night the next night, where everyone performed any song they wanted to. I thought I knew alot about the art of performing, but nothing could have prepared me for the crowd cheering enthusiastically when I came out onstage, because I felt like theywere actually excitedto hear me sing again. 

And I sang Solitary Man, even though I had been told specifically by my parents only months before that there was to be _no_ Neil Diamond at this recital.

I think the real highlight for me was at the end, when Jon, myself and two other singers did an impromptu finale of 'Hey Jude' by the Beatles. It was really popular right then, and I'd recently learned how to play it on the guitar. We really got everyone singing along by the end.

It gave me the realization that, despite it's discrimination, fights, gangs, and problems, I really loved Tulsa in every way.

* * *

**February 24, 1968**

"You nervous?"

That went without saying. I was on a bus, to get on a train, to get ona boat, to get on another train, to get on another bus, to get to the London Academy of Performing Arts. When they called my house to tell me I was accepted, I wasn't sure how to feel. And when I found out Jon was accepted too, I still didn't know how to feel. Even on my way to the train station, never to see my family or friends again for three years, I didn't know how to feel.

The bus ride was enjoyable for everyone but me, probably. They were all talking and laughing...some school friends, Ashley, Hannah, Emilie, Daphne, Sodapop, Ponyboy, Two-Bit, Steve, and my parents and grandmother a couple of seats up.

"I'm pretty nervous, yeah."

"You should be excited, Nay," Ashley smiled, "This is your dream, remember?"

"Yeah, it is..." I said shakily, trying to smile.

"Do you want to know something else?"

"Yeah."

"I found out that Soda actually doesn't like you in that way anymore."

I don't know what to call what I felt just then. I don't want to know what to call it. But I do know that I wanted to do something to get that look off of Ashley's face.

"Really?" My forced voice came out a little higher than usual, but Ashley didn't notice, "How did you find that out?"

"He told me."

"He...he _told_ you that?"

"Yep. Well, I actually made him tell me. I _thought_ he was always interested in you. Now I know. That he _was_."

"Well, that's...that's good, for him, isn't it? He can...move on with his...life."

"Yeah, it is. I mean, I don't care. I don't like him in that way anymore."

I tightened my grip on my suitcase handle under my seat, and looked out the window.

"Don't be so nervous, Nay, relax."

_Relax? _I thought, deliriously, _Who's not relaxed? I'm fine. I'm great. Really, I've never felt better._

_Ashley's done with Soda. If I were staying I might have a chance with him now. But no, I wouldn't, because he's done with me._

This repetative circle of thoughts spun aboutin my head until we got to the train station.

The next little while was unbearably boring and painful on my part. But when I had ten minutes before I had to get on the train, and twenty before I left Tulsa, I realized that my whole life had been leading up to this moment.

After repetative fussing from my parents, and getting the hell squeezed out of me and my cheeks covered in kisses, my Mom, Dad, and Grammy decided to let me go.

"Do you want me to come on and get you settled?" My Mom asked anxiously.

"No, Mom, I'm fine. I'm going to say goodbye to my friends, and then I'm off."

So they fussed for about five more minutes, and let me go.

It was sad, but nonetheless easier to say goodbye to my school friends. They were good school friends, but I never hung around with them other than that. It was really hard to say goodbye to Emilie, Pony, Two-Bit, Steve and Daphne, because I was pretty close to them, especially Daphne and Emilie, who I'd been close to my whole life.

The hardest thing would be saying goodbye to Ashley, Soda and Hannah. And I was really shocked at how much I felt I would miss Ashley. We'd gotten really close lately. I didn't think I'd miss her this much after all the misery she'd caused me.

I checked my watch that I'd recently aquired.

_1:14. _

I had to get on the train around 1:20. Suddenly, something occured to me that I had to get off my mind.

"Sodapop, could I talk to you for a second?"

"Sure," He looked more or less surprised. We walked about ten feet from the group before I burst into my explanation.

"I think you've figured out by now how Ashley felt about you," he nodded, "So I guess you'd want to know that she doesn't feel that way anymore, and that the whole time she _did_ feel that way, I sorta felt that way too, but I didn't want to hurt Ashley so I hurt myself and you instead and I realized how stupid that was and I'm sorry I did it now but I'm going to London anyway, so I guess we have this experience to laugh at later, probably when I get back in three years."

Up until now, Soda had been watching me closely, almost looking bewildered at my ability to get everything out in one breathe. Now, he smiled slightly.

"That makes things a little better, doesn't it?"

"Yeah. I guess it does. So..." There was silence, "I'll...see you when I'm nineteen."

"That's a long time."

There was another long silence, where I wasn't sure what exactly to do.

"I'm..gonna...go..get on the train..." I guestured with my hand, and turned quickly to walk away.

"Naomi, wait..."

_Don't look back don't look back d__on't look back d__on't look back..._

"Naomi..."

_Don't look back __don't look back __don't look back d__on't look back..._

Ashley and Hannah were both roughly ten feet from me, looking a little confused. Ashley looked a little bewildered, Hannah looked amused.

I didn't have time to study their expressions for long, though, because Soda reached me and turned me around. Actually, come to think of it, it was more or less voluntary on my part. Even so, I was sure that he would only have to say a couple of words to me and I'd stay in Tulsa for the rest of my life. I didn't want to have to talk to him, or I'd lose my gall.

_Don't try and convince me to stay __don't try and convince me to stay __don't try and convince me to stay..._

Really, though, he didn't say anything. I was going to say something to Soda, probably spill out everything about how I had to leave while I still had it in me, but he silenced me by pressing his lips against mine...which I was completely okay with. _This_ is not words. _This_I can stand for. I was also vaguely aware of Ashley and Hannah still watching me, but really, I didn't care.

I never really noticed before that either way I chose, I really won. I could stay or go, and I'd love my life. But, this being my life, I didn't make any decisions in my head at the time. Really, this being me, and the guy kissing me being Sodapop...I wasn't _capable _of rational thought.

"Naomi, your train leaves in five minutes."

Embarrassment is never far behind us. And today, it was in the form of my Mom. I was still partially dazed, but not enough to ignoreanother blow to my dignity. Although, I've never _had_ that much dignity...

"Naomi..." It was Ashley's voice. It took me about two seconds to turn around, two seconds which seemed to take two hours. But, to my utmost surprise, Ashley was smiling. Almost manically.

"You know, you could've told me...anytime..."

"And have you call me a whore again?"

"About that...see,we weren't on the best terms that night, and I thought you were just trying to get me angry."

"What? Get you..._No_! You seriously think I'd go that far just to hack you off a little?"

"It seemed rational at the time. Guess it wasn't, though."

"I guess it wasn't."

"How're you going to get along without your guitars?"

"I'll have to busy myself some other way. I'm thinking of taking up piano."

"That sounds fun."

I looked around for the sign that would say LAPA on it, and found it quickly enough.I was apprehensive about leaving the large group that was with me, and I looked wildly around for support.

"You're gonna be great, Naomi," Soda whispered in my ear, "Go chase your dream."

I looked at him warily, but he had a wide grin across his face.Everyone else was watching me expectantly. I waved weakly, and walked to the sign, where a strict looking woman was reading from a clipboard.

"Now, we're about to board the train. It's mandatory for me to give you the chance to stay here, as London is far away and you'll find it hard to come home if you change your mind then."

I thought for a second. This is my dream. This is all I ever wanted. But I didn't want to leave my life in Tulsa. I didn't want toleave my family, or my friends...I didn't want to leave Soda, not now!

"Ms. Sterling?"

I jumped to attention.

"Yes?"

"Will you be joining us?"

I hesitated. Did I want to stay? Or go? It was constant in my head.

_Stay_

_Go_

_Stay_

_Go_

_Stay_

_Go_

_Stay..._

_Stay..._

_Stay..._

_Stay..._

"Yes, I'll be joining you."

I followed them onto the train, still waving to everyone, and thought of my life. I was going to London, with almost all of my worldly belongings, and the little anonymous note, addressed to 'Starling.'

And I looked out the window as Tulsa grew smaller, and finally...

Disappeared.

* * *

**Bouncing on that natural high that finishing a story gives you.**

**I bet y'all thought Naomi was gonna stay, didn't you? I knew she was going to leave since the moment I started the story. Haha. **

**The next story will be called 'Intermission' and it's a little different, but I'll explain it all there. **

**I'm not going to start said story until 'Bridging the Gap' is finished.**

**Cheers,**

**Jamea**


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